The Guild Saga
by Fractured Artifact No. 248
Summary: †RESORTING† At the Sorting Ceremony, a devious witch tampers with the Sorting Hat. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ron are misplaced. The weirdness continues with strange machines being discovered, Hogwarts moving to strange places, and Dark Wizards poised to overthrow the world. This band of misfits has to band together to save the world.
1. Wizarding War One

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The United Confederation of People With Too Much Time On Their Hands

Present:

**The Guild Saga**

We present for your perusal, the account of the Hogwarts career of students that started their first year in 1991, Harry Potter's first year. A malicious individual has tampered with the sorting hat and a few people end up where they don't belong. A divergence from their comfort zone is the beginning of everyone's trouble as evil is resurfacing stronger and more wicked than ever before. The whole wizarding world is poised at the brink, ready to fall over and crush an ill-prepared muggle world. A small band of misfits must take a stand against overwhelming odds. And when they're done with that, they have to sit their exams.

A few things to keep in mind: 1) Time turners do not exist in this version; There is no magic that can manipulate time. 2) James Potter's mother has died but his father, Thomas Potter, survives. 3) Santa Clause is real. 4) Things are never what they seem.

We are legally obligated to inform you we have no creative rights to anything we are writing about.

* * *

><p><strong>Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World<br>**

**Chapter 1: Wizarding War One**

_"The first casualty of war is the truth."_

* * *

><p>The year was 1981 and the British Isles were at war. To make matters worse, it was an invisible war. There were no bombers to hide from, no tanks you could outrun, no vast opposing armies in clearly marked uniforms, so you could tell which people wanted to kill you.<p>

The enemy was unseen and people just turned up dead. No one knew for sure who was on whose side. Unless you got a good look at their arm, your enemy could be the milk man for all you knew.

For the past decade, the Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort (formerly Tom Marvolo Riddle of Glouster Street, Finchley), had been amassing supporters for the purpose of overthrowing the wizarding government of Great Britain. His plan of killing anyone who disagreed with him, was related to anyone who disagreed with him, and had once shared a lift with anyone who disagreed with him had been devastating both the wizards and muggles of England.

One night in February of that year, the situation seemed to be at their darkest, as is the fashion around St. Valentines day. The city of London looked about as festive as a mass grave, which, in some places, was the case. Huge rolling blackouts were plaguing the city. Whole city blocks were without any power and left in the cold darkness.

In one such city block, one lone light was on in a skyscraper. The office illuminated was that of Cynthia Montefiore. She was looking out at the patchwork of dark and lit streets below her. Several bubbles of light floated lazily above her head. She knew using magic this obviously would draw attention from the wrong kind of people, but if the wrong kind of people thought they could take her in a fight, they were wrong.

Cynthia could use a good fight right now. It would ease her tension. Not a blasted thing she was trying was working. Cynthia belonged to what was called 'The Good Guys'. She had been working to smuggle muggle-borns and blood traitors targeted by Voldemort out of the country and finding his supporters.

However, in recent times, you couldn't smuggle people to safety faster than a Death Eater could kill them. As for finding Dark Wizards, all you had to do was throw a Galleon in a crowded restaurant and it would land in a Death Eater's latte.

She was weighing the pros and cons of firebombing England and starting from scratch when the door to her office burst open. She looked up to see a man leaning against her desk, heaving breaths. He was a bald man with face that had been wrinkled by a life time of laughing too much. Right now, his expression was one of frantic dread.

"Thomas?" she asked, confused as to what could possibly make a molecular biologist terrified. Then again, they do get hung up on little things.

"Chairwoman Montefiore..." Thomas said between gasps. "... I need your help … My son, James, and his wife Lily are being targeted … by You-Know-Who!"

"You mean Voldemort?" she asked, watching him grimace. "What's happened to them?" she asked. Genuine concern overrode her displeasure at her employee being afraid of a name.

"Nothing." he said.

"Where are they now?" she asked.

"Their house in Godric's Hollow." he said.

"Are they being attacked?" she asked.

"No." he answered. The room was silent for a beat.

"If they aren't in immediate danger, then why don't they just leave the country?" she asked. She was beginning to think this man had been worrying too much. Lily and James Potter were very adept with magic. They could apparate to anywhere in the world and transfigure themselves a three bedroom house. With a pool.

"You don't understand!" Thomas went on, frantic. "You-Know-Who-"

"Voldemort?"

"-is after them _himself_." he said.

Cynthia was shocked quiet for a minute. Lily and James weren't _that _adept. The idea that those two could pose a threat to the most dangerous dark wizard of all time was laughable. Not the funny kind of laugh, though.

"Why?" she asked finally.

"They couldn't tell me all the details. Just that it has something to do with their son." he said.

"What did their son do?" she asked. Since when did they have a son?

"Nothing!" he answered. "Harry is just a baby." Oh, that son.

"Voldemort is after a baby?" she clarified.

"Yes." he confirmed. Evil is threatened by a baby.

"Are there three wise men involved?" she asked.

"Uh, no." he answered, confused. "Dumbledore was there at the Christening..."

Cynthia sat back in her chair. She swiveled back around to look out her window at the city of London. As she watched the streets flicker on and off, she tried to remember if she had been drinking earlier.

"Please," Thomas implored behind her, "there must be something you can do. I'll pay you anything. I'll give you the family invisibility cloak." She heard him drop some fabric on her desk.

"Thomas," she said, closing her eyes. "You have to understand if Voldemort is going after them personally then..." she stopped. If Voldemort wanted you, he would find you. He would come to you. Sooner or later, most likely sooner, you would face him. This indisputable fact resonated through her brain, made it's way into her Tactical Planning Center, and hit a button marked 'Cunning Plan'.

"I'll do it!" She said, standing up suddenly and turning to face the desperate man. He was so shocked by this he actually fell backwards onto the carpet.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep your family alive." she said as she helped him up. "I will employ every spell I know to make sure Voldemort never gets within cursing distance of them."

Thomas Potter burst out crying. He thanked her vehemently and collapsed, relieved, into a chair. She gave him a glass of brandy to calm his nerves and sent him on his way.

After he was gone, she sat back down in her chair and began drawing out a diagram. The plan she was forming could only be called despicable, but as a business woman she knew everything had it's price. In this case, it was innocent lives. She had seen an opportunity and she grabbed it. For the first time, and probably the last, they had something unique they could use against Voldemort.

Bait.

~o!o~

The sun rose on a cold morning on November 2nd. The previous day, There had been celebrations all over Britain. The war had come to an unexpectedly abrupt end. Even more unexpectedly, the bad guys had lost. More specifically, Bad Guy No. 1 had exploded.

Now the rebuilding would start. People would return to the country. The ministry would resume normal functions. People would go back to worrying about things like curtain colors and yogurt flavors.

Cynthia, on the other hand, had simply exchanged one set of problems for another.

"You lied!" Thomas Potter screamed at her. "You told me they'd be safe! You said there was no way he could find them, not with all the magic in the world!" he was livid. His skin was dead white and his face streaked with tears.

Cynthia didn't look at him. She kept her eyes trained on the suburban house across the street from her. On the front step there was a swaddle of blankets. She had tried to walk into the yard and pick it up earlier but there was a spell protecting the plot of land.

"I trusted you!" Thomas raged on. "With my family! The only people I had left! That house was supposed to be invulnerable!" There wasn't even a house left the crater was so big!"

Cynthia kept focused on the bundle as it wiggled gently. Things had definitely not gone as planned. Voldemort was dead. That was the ultimate goal of the plan and that had been accomplished, but something had gone very...wrong in the execution. A short while ago, Harry Potter had been found in the crater of what was once his home. Literally nothing else was found. Not Lily, Not James, and Not Voldemort. People were generally so thrilled with that last bit that they ignored everything else.

"You were the one who-!"

"You're right." Cynthia cut him off. "And I'm sorry."

Thomas Potter gave her a hard look and turned to leave.

"You can have your cloak back." she said to him as he walked away.

"Keep it." he said curtly.

"Are you going to take Harry?" she asked.

He stopped walking, but didn't turn around.

"Harry," he said in a cold tone, "is the reason they are dead." and he vanished with a crack.

Cynthia heard a shrill scream coming from the house she had been watching. Across the street, Petunia Dursley had discovered a bundle of terror on her doorstep. She began shouting for her husband and retreated back into her house, without even picking Harry up off the cold ground.

Cynthia felt a weight bearing down on her and apparated as far away as she could manage. She now realized the full effect of what she had done and was determined to drink until she forgot what it was.


	2. The Revelation

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 2: The Revelation**

_"At some point you will have to face the fact that everything you know is wrong."_

* * *

><p>"Wake up!" <em>bang bang bang<em>

Harry Potter awoke to his Aunt Petunia's grating voice. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to return to the dream he was having. Something about flying in a motorbike...

"Wake up!" _bang bang bang_

It was no good. Nothing ruins dreams like reality. He got up and pushed the door of his cupboard open. Once outside, he gave himself a stretch. For his entire life, or what he knew of it, he had been living in a cupboard below the stairs in his Aunt and Uncle's house in Little Whinging. Fortunately, he was tiny, so he wasn't inconvenienced by it. Unfortunately, he was living in a cupboard.

He made his way into the kitchen and sat down next to a decadent pile of gifts. His cousin, Dudley, turned 11 today. Dudley always got a small mountain of presents for his birthday. And Christmas. And Easter. And Halloween.

As Harry reached for a piece of bacon he was pushed off his chair. He crashed on the floor and looked up to see Dudley occupying his previous seat. Dudley was innocently counting the presents, oblivious to Harry's pain.

Harry picked himself up and sat down in the next available chair. He was very used to this treatment by now. It hurt just as much, but he had learned to live with it. Beating up Harry was the favorite pastime of Dudley and his friends. It was simply a mercy he didn't need glasses, or they would have been broken long ago.

"22...23..." Dudley counted. "24...uhm."

"19." Harry chipped in.

"19...20...21..." Dudley continued.

"Bad news, dear." said Petunia to her husband Vernon, a rotund man with an impressive mustache. "Mrs. Figg just called. She can't watch Harry today, she broke her ankle."

Harry looked up, hopefully. Mrs. Figg was a crazy cat woman who lived a few streets over. She watched Harry whenever the Dursleys couldn't be bothered with him. With her out of the way Harry would be able to roam the neighbor hood freely while the Durselys were out celebrating Dudley's birthday.

"Well," said Vernon. "We'll just have to take him with us today."

"I don't want him to come!" Dudley said, turning away from his presents (all 12 of them).

"We can't leave him here." said Vernon. "If we do we'll come back to a big smoking whole in the ground."

Harry looked determinedly into his grits. His aunt and uncle mentioned at every opportunity how his parents had died when their meth lab exploded. It was how he had gotten his scar.

A short while later found Harry in the back of the family car between Dudley and his friend, Piers Polkiss, on the way to the London Zoo. They arrived shortly after and before Harry could get lost in the crowd of tourists, his Uncle Vernon pulled him aside.

"I'm waring you boy," he said, his face getting redder. "Any _funny business _and you'll be locked in your cupboard until the school year starts in September."

As Harry made his way through the menagerie, he pondered on how he could possibly avoid funny business. He never tried to get up to mischief, but strange things happened all the same, and where typically followed by a punishment. Still, it was worth it sometimes. On his darkest days he would revist the last time his Aunt Marge had come to visit. They had all been in a crowded shopping mall and she was talking loudly about how trashy Harry's parents were. Then all her clothes had vanished. All of them.

As he was reading the plaque by a Buffalo Weaver, he heard a chortle behind him. He turned around to see Dudley and Piers grinning malevolently at him.

"Hey, Potter." Dudley called out. "Wanna see them feed the tigers?"

"With what?" Harry asked. Having already guessed the answer he was looking for a good place to run.

"You!" Piers cried, making a dash for him.

He guessed right, and was off like a shot. He ran down several avenues. He passed the Zebra enclosure, saw a few tapirs, and dashed passed the lion exhibit, but never once did he slow himself down to look behind him.

When he was out of breath he stopped to look around. Neither Piers nor Dudley was anywhere to be seen. People were milling around outside an enclosure decorated to look like an iceberg. He couldn't see past the wall of people, but he could hear a distant roaring sound and some splashes.

Then, he noticed a stairwell going down along the side of the enclosure. He jumped down the stairs in twos. Stairs always stymied Dudley, just looking at them made him tired.

The room the stairs led to was completely dark. The only light came dully from a wall of glass. There were people staring intently into the glass. As Harry got closer he saw the light above coming through in ripples. This was an aquarium. As he was wondering what could be this big, a Polar bear swam into view. Harry wasn't expecting anything that big to hove into his line of vision and took a step back. In his haste he accidentally backed into someone.

"Sorry," he said, as the stranger put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"No matter," came a soft reply. "They're beautiful aren't they?" the voice asked.

Harry turned to look. He had backed into a woman. She stood a little higher than Aunt Petunia, and much straighter. The Queen of England would be envious of her posture. She had severely short black hair that laid flat against her head. She was wearing a sleek black dress suit. It looked very serious and distinctly out of place in this family oriented venue.

However, what Harry noticed most was her face. It was flawless and gentle. It made you feel safe just looking at it. She had a calm beauty that put you at ease. She smiled softly at Harry and indicated the polar bear with her hand.

"They are the strongest bear in the world." she continued. "And the only bear that can swim long distances."

"Our teacher said they can smell a seal from a mile away." Harry offered. "Under the ice."

"They must hate it here." the woman said. "The sewage treatment plant is two streets over."

Harry started laughing, but he was cut short when a hand clamped down on his back.

"Hey, Potter." said Dudley. "Wanna see them feed my fists?"

"With what?" Piers asked, giggling. They had probably planned out this dialogue.

"Harry." said Dudley pushing Harry into Piers, who held his arms behind his back and turned him to face Dudley.

As Dudley raised his fist back, Harry closed his eyes. After a few seconds of not being punched, he opened them again.

Dudley was staring up at the woman who had grabbed his fist as he was about to let fly with a punch. Dudley was dumbfounded. No one had ever stopped him from doing this before.

Harry noticed that the woman did not look as gentle anymore. The expression she was regarding his cousin with reminded Harry of the look Dudley got when he had caught a butterfly and was wondering whether or not to pull its wings off.

"Excuse me!" said a shrill voice. Harry turned around, at least, as much as he could with Piers still holding his hands behind his back. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were marching toward them. No one messed with their son.

"Madame," said Uncle Vernon. "Release our boy immediately."

Everyone in the enclosure turned to watch what was going on. In the failing light, Harry could see the woman give a smirk. She turned her body suddenly, taking Dudley with her and she flung his body towards the aquarium.

Then, as he made contact with the glass wall he passed right through it, under water. There was no crack of resistant glass, no splash of water. He was just on one side of the glass one second and on the other side the next. There was a half second of dumbstruck silence. Then, the screaming started.

In spite of the fact that no one else was in any real danger, everyone started running around screaming. Petunia Dursley flung herself at the glass and clawed at it. Dudley flailed around in the water. The polar bears swam closer to investigate. They hadn't had any human since their last keeper got drunk two years ago.

Harry felt his hands come free as Piers ran away. He didn't make any move, just kept focused on the scene in front of him. Uncle Vernon would definitely file this under the heading of funny business.

"Harry James Potter?" he heard someone say next to him. He turned to find the woman offering her hand. "We should probably relocate somewhere safer."

"How do you know my name?" he asked taking her hand and following her outside.

"Harry," she said with a smile, "_everyone _knows _your _name."

~o!o~

Harry sat on a bench outside the tiger enclosure. He was holding very still to make sure no one saw him. The woman had told him to wait here while she 'sorted out matters'. He fully expected a SWAT team to run through at any time and arrest him 'for good measure' and charges of funny business. You could say what you wanted about life at Privet Drive, but it was better than being in prison. Then again, prison cells might actually be bigger than the room he had now.

"That's that done and dusted." said the woman appearing on the bench. She looked slightly damp, but otherwise unmolested and not arrested.

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"Various things." she said evasively. "Witnesses forgot what they saw. Security Video was erased. Polar bears were placated. And no dead bodies were found."

"Did anyone die?" Harry asked, concerned with how she phrased her report.

"No." she said. "Although your cousin will probably be scared for life."

"Thank you." he said.

"Your welcome."

Then it occurred to him. "If the witnesses forgot, how come he'll remember?" he asked.

"Well, he and his parents are already in the know, so I didn't have to erase his memory." she answered.

This explanation left him with more questions.

"How did you erase people's memories?" he asked.

"I had to use magic." she answered.

"Seriously," he pressed. "What did you do?"

She gave him a long hard look. Finally, she spoke:

"How much do you know about your parents?" she asked Harry.

"They died when their meth lab exploded." said Harry. It was really all he knew. "And my father dropped out of the military."

No emotion registered on the womans face, though her hand did clench.

"I can see I'll have to start from the beginning." she said. She stood up and held out her hand to Harry. He looked at it a second and then shook it.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." she said to him. "My name is Cynthia Montefiore. I am a witch."

Harry froze in mid-shake.

"And you are a Wizard." she finished.


	3. Recapitulation

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 3: Recapitulation**

_"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."_

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><p><em>"<em>Can you run that by me again?" Harry asked Cynthia.

"You're a wizard." Cynthia repeated.

"See, that's where you keep loosing me." said Harry.

The Dursleys had always been clear that nothing extraordinary or supernatural really existed. They had given Dudley presents on Christmas and carefully explained that a man did not come down the chimney. They had given Dudley candy on Easter and made sure he knew no anthropomorphic rabbits were involved. When Harry lost his baby teeth, they were quick to inform him that no one in their right mind would pay for them (they paid Dudley for his). Fairy tales were never read at bedtime and the word 'Magic' was treated as a swear word.

"There is a world out there," said Cynthia as they both walked through the African enclosure at the Zoo, "unseen by normal people. It is a world where Dragons are allotted wildlife reservations and house elves have an employment office. It is the world to which your parents belong. And you belong there, too."

"So," said Harry. "The strange things that happened to me, that was magic?"

"Unless you are referring to hair starting to grow in strange places, yes." said Cynthia.

"If my parents knew magic, why did they die?" Harry asked.

"They didn't just die." said Cynthia, who was now trodding harder on the pavement than was strictly necessary. "They were murdered. Murdered by the most evil dark wizard ever."

"Oh," said Harry, relieved. That was way cooler than a meth lab explosion.

"Back when you were a baby," she began, "there was a war going on between two groups of Wizards. Us and Them. The head wizard of Them wanted to dominate the wizarding world and wasn't concerned over how many corpses he had to climb over to get to the top. He's gone now."

This seemed a little punctuated to Harry.

"He's just gone?" he asked skeptically. People didn't just disappear.

"He just disappeared." she said. "No one knows how or why or where, too. He might be dead. He might be in Tahiti. Whatever it was, we have been enjoying a decade of peace."

"If I'm a wizard," Harry continued as the Zoo's main gate drifted into view, "how come _you _are the one just telling me_ now_?"

"Good question." she said. "Excuse me!" she shouted across the entry plaza. Harry looked in the general direction she was shouting and saw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hurrying out with a huddled mass of towel between them that might have been concealing Dudley.

They turned to look at her and doubled their pace. They were suddenly directly in front of Harry and Cynthia. Harry hadn't actually seen them move through the intervening distance, they were just _there_.

"Why," Cynthia asked his terrified relatives, "was Mr. Potter not informed of his legacy?"

"Harry," started Vernon, trying to muster an authoritative tone. "you must not believe what this loony is telling you about magic and broom sticks and enchanted castles."

"Now how did you know we were talking about magic?" Cynthia asked bemused. "We hadn't even touched on the subject of broom sticks or enchanted castles."

While Vernon sputtered what might have been a partially convincing explanation. Petunia grabbed Harry by the arm and propelled Dudley towards the parking lot.

"We are leaving now!" she said venomously. To Cynthia, she called over her shoulder "And if you come near our house-"

"You'll call the police?" Cynthia asked.

"Yes!" said Petunia.

"And tell them what?" Cynthia asked. Petunia had stopped in her tracks.

"You can't have it getting out that you're involved with my crowd." Cynthia chided. "Police inquiries are a matter of public record after all." Petunia turned to her in horror.

"I have a solution that would please all of us." said Cynthia, advancing on the horrified Dursleys.

"I'm sure you'll agree," Cynthia started, "That everyone has a right to be safe from what they consider a threat."

"Yes." said Petunia.

"And is it not true," Cynthia continued, "That people should live their lives in the way they see as right without less responsible people impinging on their liberties?"

"Yes." said Vernon.

"And shouldn't it be," said Cynthia, "that if people cannot agree on what is decent they should be separated from the more enlightened populace?"

"Yes." said Vernon and Petunia.

"Then it's settled." said Cynthia. "Harry will go to school at Hogwarts."

"Now hang on," Vernon blustered. "I am not going to pay for a bunch of loons to teach him magic tricks."

"Arrangements will be made." said Cynthia.

"He will not be allowed in my house if he is going to practice such nonsense." said Vernon.

"We can accommodate your concerns." said Cynthia.

"This kind of lunacy is a danger to all decent people." Vernon ranted.

"I will turn you into a frog." said Cynthia, casually.

"We'll have him ready to go at the start of term." said Petunia, grabbing her husband and moving away quickly. The woman might have been a hag, but she was no fool.

~o!o~

Harry lay on his bed staring at the ceiling of his room. To be perfectly accurate, Harry was curled up on his cot looking at the stairs in his closet. He'd spent most of his time in here since the incident at the Zoo. Since the family had met Cynthia, they had been giving Harry a wide birth. Vernon had even put a ladder outside the bedroom window so he wouldn't have to walk on the stairs.

Harry still couldn't believe what Cynthia had told him. Him, Harry, a Wizard, with magic. Nearly a month later and he was still expecting to wake up.

The door to his cupboard opened. He looked over to see his Aunt Petunia kneeling down beside him. She held a shoe box in her hands.

"That witch is coming on your birthday to take you shopping for school supplies." she said. She handed him the box.

"These were some things of your mothers." she said, not meeting his gaze. "They were from her days at that school. She left them when she moved out of our parents house."

Harry opened the box and found it was full of pictures, letters on old parchment, phials with some various liquids inside, and one dried white rose. He picked up one of the pictures, then dropped it.

"The picture's moving!" he gasped.

"Uh-huh," said Petunia, unfazed.

Harry picked it up again. It was his mother, wearing long dark robes. She was dancing with a boy in stone courtyard. They were singing each other around to some unheard tune. Their faces were laughing.

"Is that my dad?" asked Harry. He only knew what his mother looked like from the one picture they had of Vernon and Petunia's wedding. He had never seen his father's picture.

"No," said Petunia without looking. "That's a boy who lived down the street from us. They were good friends. His family was doggy."

"The summer she turned eleven, she got a letter from that school." Petunia started suddenly. "She left shortly afterward. She'd come home in the summer and mix up potions in her bedroom with that boy."

She got up to leave.

"Thank you." said Harry.

She shifted her feet, like she was wondering which direction to go in. Then she walked away.


	4. A Whole New World

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 4: A Whole New World**

_"Leaving your house is dangerous business; you never know where you'll end up."_

* * *

><p>Harry waited impatiently in the Dursleys sitting room. Today was July 31st, his birthday. Cynthia said she would come to him today. He had been waiting for 4 hours and was starting to wonder if she'd ever show up. Never mind the fact that it was only seven in the morning.<p>

After he had gotten up, eaten breakfast, bathed, gotten dressed, bathed again for good measure, and pulled out the 5 pounds he kept hidden under his cot he had sat and waited for Cynthia to show up. At first he sat in the sitting room, but he didn't want to sit around in awkward silence with the Dursleys. He went to lie down in his cupboard, but he was afraid he might miss Cynthia if she walked by his house. He sat on the front step for awhile, but he was afraid he'd seem overeager. So, he went and sat back down in the Sitting room.

He had had a lot to think about while Cynthia was away. Chief among them was what he was going to turn Dudley into when he finally learned magic, but train of thought No. 2 was all to do with his mother. The box that Aunt Petunia had given him was like looking through a keyhole to a tropical island while you were stuck in Siberia. He learned from her letters that her favorite class was potions. She thought James Potter was an arrogant toerag. Her best friend was a Slytherin named Sev. He had no idea what a toerag or a slytherin was, but he was going to ask Cynthia today.

He sat up when he heard the doorbell chime. This was very strange, because the Dursleys didn't own a doorbell. He ran to the front door and threw it open. He saw a black car in the street in front of the house. The back door opened and Cynthia stepped out. She was wearing a dress the same color as the car and just as streamlined.

"Aren't you eager?" she asked Harry.

"Huh?" Harry asked. Then he looked around him and saw he had run to the curb without noticing. He had left the door to the house shuddering on its hinges behind him.

"Your aunt has been informed of our plans and we can leave directly." she said, and beckoned him into the car.

Harry jumped into the car like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. As he slid into the seat he noticed something very peculiar about the cars roof. It had vanished. The windows on the outside were tinted so darkly they might as well have been pained over, but from inside the car, the windows, the roof, and the doors were perfectly see through. Invisible, in fact. As they started driving down Magnolia Crescent, Harry had to stop his mind from wondering why the wind wasn't blowing.

"This is my son, Marcus." said Cynthia after a minute.

"Sorry?" said Harry. Then he noticed he was sitting next to a boy his age.

"OH!" he scooted over quickly. "Sorry."

"Charmed." said Marcus unfazed by this awkward meeting. He was about Harry's height. He had short, pin straight black hair and his skin was pale. He regarded Harry with dark brown eyes.

"I'll be starting at Hogwarts with you." he said.

"You're a wizard?" Harry asked.

Marcus blinked. "Yes," he answered. Harry had the impression he fully deserved to hear the word 'duh' at the end of that sentence.

"Can you tell me more about Hogwells?" Harry asked him.

"Hogwarts," Marcus corrected. "Mother can tell you more than I can. We should probably wait so she won't have to repeat anything."

"Wait for what?" Harry asked, turning towards Cynthia. It was then, as his head swiveled around the car, that he noticed something worrisome.

"No one's driving!" he cried.

"That is the case." said Cynthia, nonchalantly. "We are going to be taking a girl with us on our excursion. She's a lot like you. Both her parents are muggles-"

"Muggles?" Harry asked.

"People without magic." Cynthia filled in. "-and she has no idea how our world functions. We are going to take both of you on an introductory course on the wizarding world, tied in with a shopping trip."

"Does that happen a lot?" Harry asked. "Muggles have a child that can use magic?"

"It's very rare for anyone to have Magic." said Cynthia "However, muggle-borns make up a very significant percentage of the wizarding people. I am a muggle-born." said Cynthia. "Ah, here we are."

They had stopped outside a two story brick house, covered in ivy. The neighborhood was unfamiliar to Harry and he wondered how long they'd been driving.

Cynthia got out of the car and Marcus made to follow her. Harry, between the two, was swept out along with the tide. Cynthia made her way to the front door and Harry heard a doorbell chime inside the house. A quick glance around the door revealed that this house didn't have a doorbell either.

The Door cracked open slowly and Harry could see a girl under an explosion of bushy brown hair. She had the look of someone determined to cross a lake, but had to walk over thin ice.

"Hello?" she greeted them tentatively.

"Good morning." said Cynthia, smiling gently. "Her-many Granger?"

"It's Her-My-knee." the girl said.

"I do beg your pardon." said Cynthia. "My name is Cynthia Montefiore. I'm here to take you on a tour of the wizarding world, and to collect supplies for Hogwarts."

The girl seemed less cautions now. Cynthia's gentle features had a way of making you feel safe. Looking at her, you couldn't imagine being thrown to a hungry polar bear.

A little later, Cynthia was discussing the days travel plans with her parents, while Hermione chatted with Harry and Marcus by the car.

"Are your family all wizards?" she asked the boys.

"I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle." answered Harry. "They're both muggles. So is my cousin."

"My mother and older brother are fully trained wizards." said Marcus.

"I can only make small things float so far." she said with a hint of disappointment. "What can you do with your magic?"

"Er," said Harry. He had no idea he was supposed to be practicing.

"I can hold my breath for half an hour," said Marcus, "and I can make things catch fire."

"Cool." said Hermione appreciatively.

"I can also lie very convincingly." Marcus added.

"Wait a minute-" said Hermione, glaring suspiciously.

"All right young ones," Cynthia interrupted, walking to the car. "We must be off."

Once they were in the car and Hermione had gotten over the car driving itself, Cynthia started explaining their movements for that day.

"We're going to a place called Diagon Alley." she said. "It's a street in London where wizards gather to buy and sell goods. You'll be able to get everything on your supply list there."

"A few things you should know about Hogwarts," she moved on. Harry and Hermione leaned in. "The school was founded roughly a thousand years ago. They've put in indoor plumbing since then. It was founded by the four most prodigious wizards and witches in Britain at the time: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Rowena Ravenclaw. In their memory, the four school houses are named after them.

"On your first day at school you will be sorted in to one of the four houses. For the rest of your school career, you will live, eat, and sleep with your housemates. The houses are involved in an ongoing competition. Students earn points for their house by way of academic achievements and loose points for bad behavior. The house with the most points at year's end wins."

"Wins what?" Marcus asked.

"Bragging rights." answered Cynthia. "You'll be taking seven classes to start with, but later on you can sample more specialized fields. The classes are Potions, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and History of Magic.

"The current headmaster of Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore. He is widely regarded to be the greatest wizard who ever lived. So don't break him."

The car came to a stop and they found themselves in an unremarkable street outside a pub with a sign saying 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

"Before we go out," said Cynthia, "put this on." she produced a gray knit cap and pushed it down on Harry's head down to his eyebrows.

"What's it for?" asked Harry, fingering the material. It was very comfy.

"In this case, it will prevent a riot." said Cynthia. Without further explanation they all got out of the car and walked into the pub.

"Muggles don't see this place." said Cynthia as she held the door open for them. The inside was crowded and poorly lit by dozens of candles. The furniture appeared to be hand made several centuries ago.

Cynthia led them through the pub and out the back. Harry found himself staring at a brick wall and a lot of garbage pales. Cynthia stepped over to one of the walls and counted the bricks going up from the ground, then casually gave one a flick. Nothing at first, then the brick started to jiggle. Then all the bricks began squirming and moving aside. They all moved out of the way to reveal a whole street.

"Welcome," said Cynthia, "to Diagon Alley."

The three children followed closely behind her as she made her way down the street. Harry tried to pay attention to where she was in the crowd and everything else at the same time. Eventually, he had to make do with looking at everything and holding on to the back of Marcus's jumper.

The street was packed with people wearing archaic flowing robes embroidered with multicolored threads, some of which seemed to be real gold. He passed by a shop that had a griffin perched on it's doorstep. A different shop had stacks of cauldrons in front of it. Some of them were floating in mid air. For him, this was conclusive proof that he wasn't dreaming and he felt great joy.

"Where are we going first?" asked Hermione. She wasn't looking where she was going either, instead watching a group of women who were hovering above the ground and keeping their faces covered. Cynthia had a secure hold of Hermione's hand so she wouldn't be left behind in an amazed stupor.

"We will be stopping at Gringotts first. That's the Wizard bank." said Cynthia.

"My parents gave me money." said Hermione distractedly.

"You can't use muggle money here, dear." said Cynthia.

Harry felt his stomach drop. He didn't have brass farthing to his name, let alone any Wizard money.

~o!o~

An hour later, they were stepping out of Gringotts. They had taken a minecart miles underground at neck breaking speed. Hermione's hair was a lot straighter than it had been an hour ago. Harry was somewhat dizzy.

"This is a Galleon." said Cynthia, handing Hermione and Harry each a gold coin. "One Galleon is worth 17 Sickles." she handed them each a silver coin. "a Sickle is worth 29 Knuts." she handed them each a Bronze coin.

Harry was wondering if these would cover the cost of supplies that day.

"You can keep those." Cynthia said to them. "The cost of supplies has been covered." she held up a large velvet bag that jingled when she shook it."

"I couldn't ask you to do that." Harry and Hermione said in unison.

"You didn't." Cynthia said in finality. "The first thing you all need," she continued, closing the subject, "is a wand. A wand will allow you to focus your power and use more complex spells. The international wizarding law states that every witch or wizard has the right to have a wand on them at all times. So, if anyone tries to take your wand away, tell them to go die in a fire."

As she guided them down Diagon Alley, Harry took stock of what the witches and wizards around him where wearing. They looked exactly as one would expect them to look. Long flowing robes circa King Arthur. This was in stark contrast to their party. Hermione was dressed casually in corduroy pants and a light tee shirt. He was in Dudley's hand me downs which hung off of him like a circus tent.

While he and Hermione didn't fit in because they had never been to such a place, Cynthia and Marcus seemed to stand out intentionally. Cynthia didn't wear any ornaments, not so much as an earing. Her dress was form fitting and spartan. The black material didn't have a single extra pleat or seem that it didn't need. Regardless of how modest the design was, it was still impressive. The woman had the style of a speeding bullet.

For his part, Marcus dressed in plain black jumper and slacks. He seemed to have as much tolerance for excess as his mother.

"Here we are." said Cynthia, stopping in front of a windowless store that said 'Ollivander's' above it. They all went inside to the dusky interior.

Harry and Hermione looked around at the rows of shelves with narrow boxes that covered every inch of the wall.

"Good afternoon." said a voice behind Harry. He turned around suddenly to find an old man with wide, silvery eyes. He was beginning to think that appearing suddenly and scaring people was the done thing with wizards.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander" said Cynthia. "These children are starting school this year and are in need of Wands."

"Ah, Cynthia Montefiore." said Ollivander. " I remember when you came in for your wand. Vitae, Twelve and a quarter inches, Dragon heartstring, pliable."

"Yes." said Cynthia, joining him in reminiscing. "Very good wand. I've still got it somewhere."

"You don't use it anymore?" asked Ollivander, looking hurt.

"Sometimes." said Cynthia, bashfully. "This is my son, Marcus." she said moving Marcus forward in an attempt to change the subject.

"Charmed." said Marcus.

Ollivander pulled out a measuring tape and started cataloging all of Marcus's dimensions, up to and including the length of his ear lobes. He then pulled out various boxes from the shelves around the shop. While he was doing so, the tape came and measured Harry on its own.

When the tape zoomed off to measure Hermione, Ollivander brought a stack of boxes over to Harry.

"You must be Cynthia's other son, Raleigh." said Ollivander. "I thought you weren't starting school for another few years yet."

"No, sir. I'm not her son." Harry corrected. "My name's Harry. Harry Potter."

Ollivander dropped the boxes he was holding. Cynthia, Marcus, and Hermione looked over to them.

"Good lord," said Ollivander. "Yes, I see now. You have your mother's eyes." he commented distractedly. "I knew I'd be seeing you this year." He looked down at the boxes he'd dropped. He stooped to pick one up.

"Try this one." He said.

Harry opened the box and pulled out a wand. He held it lightly in his hand. Ollivander took it back.

"No, try this one." and handed him another box. Ollivander took that one away, too. They repeated this with several boxes until the one he held emitted bright yellow sparks from the end.

"Yew, eleven inches, Unicorn hair, bendy." said Ollivander. "Excellent for transfiguration. Very much like your father's."

After Marcus and Hermione got their wands, they left the shop.

"Did he know my parents well?" Harry asked Cynthia.

"Mr. Ollivander remembers every wand he ever sold and who bought it." said Cynthia. "He sold your parents their wands."

This was a satisfactory answer, but Harry had the impression Cynthia was holding something back.

They spent the next few hour going through various shops along the street. Cynthia gave them instructions on what they'd need for Hogwarts. Yes, you should probably buy some extra inkwells. No, you cannot buy live komodo dragons for your potion kit. Yes, the bigger telescopes will give you an edge in astronomy. No, you cannot get the solid gold cauldron, it will clash with the crystal phials.

Around noon, they were walking into a shop called 'Madame Malkins Robes for all Occasions'. As they came in, they were greeted by a smiling witch.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she asked them.

"Yes." answered Cynthia. "And this one will need some casual wear." she put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Very well." said the witch and she beckoned them onto some platforms. There was a pale boy with blond hair standing on a different platform. Fabric was winding itself around him and pinning itself into place. A measuring tape started taking Harry's dimensions for the second time that day.

"Can we remove the hat, dear?" said the witch, reaching up to Harry's knit cap.

"The hat stays." said Cynthia, decisively.

The witch recoiled her hand and went to check on a rack.

"Hello," said the pale boy. "Are you going to Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Which house will you be in?" he asked.

"Er," Harry started. Were you allowed to pick?

"I'll be in Slytherin." said Marcus. "Like my mother."

"You don't know what house you'll be in until you are tested." Cynthia piped up. Nevertheless, she gave Marcus a fond smile.

"I'll be in Slytherin, too, like my parents." said the boy. "I couldn't stand being sorted into somewhere like Hufflepuff. I'd just leave, wouldn't you?"

"Some of my best employees were Hufflepuffs." said Cynthia defensively. Although, Harry noticed, she hadn't actually disagreed.

"Oh, sorry." said the boy. He didn't sound sorry. "Are you going to try out for Quidditch?" he asked Harry.

"What's Quidditch?" Harry and Hermione asked together.

Draco looked at them sharply.

"What's your surname?" he asked.

"Montefiore." came a cold drawling voice from the doorway. Harry turned around to see a wizard with long blond hair facing Cynthia. He looked like he was appraising obscene graffiti, while she looked like she was politely greeting an old colleague.

"Hello, Lucius." she said. "Have you been keeping well?"

"Satisfactory." he said curtly. "We're leaving Draco."

The pale boy hopped off the platform, shimmied out of the robe that was sewing around him and left with his father.

They left the robe shop a short while later. Harry was wearing more fitting dungarees and long sleeve shirt.

"Is this what wizards do?" asked Hermione. "Run shops like this?" she vaguely indicated the storefronts of Diagon Alley.

"The wizard socioeconomic system is just as diverse as the muggle world." said Cynthia. "There are wizard horticulturists, wizard veterinarians, wizard transportation engineers, and we even have our own government. The wizard version of the veterinarian has to deal with unicorns and dragons as opposed to hamsters and cats, but really the two systems are analogous."

"Are you a veterinarian?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Cynthia, subtly checking her dress for any cat hair. "I own a company. More of guild really: a lot of companies that have to work together. We principally manufacture artifacts. Magical items that people need for general or specific purposes. Broomsticks, Floo powder, watches, self stirring cauldrons and the like."

They arrived outside the most crowded shop in the whole alley. The sign above read 'Flourish and Blotts'.

"It's a book shop." said Hermione, looking like someone had just proved Santa Clause was real. "How long do we have in here?" she asked.

"As long as you like." said Cynthia smiling. Hermione was off like a shot.

~o!o~

Harry was looking through a book on creative curses to use on your enemies. He couldn't understand any of it, but he relished the knowledge that someday Dudley was going to get his comeuppance.

"You really shouldn't use magic to hurt people." said Marcus from the chair across from him.

"Dudley has always been mean to me." said Harry with vitriol.

"Yes, your cousin is a mean little tit." said Marcus. "But that doesn't mean that you are."

Harry considered the implications of being as bad as the people he hated, then he put the book of curses aside and picked up a copy of the Invisible guide to turning invisible. He found he rather liked Marcus. The boy wasn't exciting. The whole day the expression on his face hadn't deviated away from calm nonchalance. He hadn't even cracked a smile when an over eager Hermione had fallen inside a bottomless cauldron. However, being around him felt like wearing a comfy pair of old slippers. There was no pressure to impress and you had nothing to prove.

Right now, they were both going through the pile of books Hermione kept bringing over to their table in the book shop. The pile was now tall enough to warrant a scaffolding.

"She's going to love the library at Hogwarts." said Marcus.

"They have a library at Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"Yes." said Marcus. "And it's not one of those sissy libraries with the evenly spaced shelves and the Dewey Decimal system. In the Hogwarts library you need a map and three days worth of food in case you get lost."

Harry was about to comment on how scary that sounded when he noticed Hermione coming down from the second landing with a book that was bigger than she was. The title read 'Braham's Epic'. She lost her footing on the steps and stumbled onto the railing. Harry automatically jumped up and ran over, but before he could make any good distance, she dropped the book over the railing rather than follow it down.

The three watched in horror as it fell onto a helpless red head. It slammed on top of him and pinned him to the floor. The book fell open and music started to blast out of it. Harry and Marcus hurried over and pulled the tome off him while Hermione hastened down the stairs.

"I am so sorry!" Hermione cried.

"Wha happ'nd?" the red head asked dazed.

"You proved that reading is dangerous." commented Marcus, still looking completely serious.

A red headed woman and Cynthia came to them from opposite directions.

"What's going on?" Cynthia asked them.

"Ron! What happened to you?" the woman asked.

"She did it." Marcus and Harry chimed.

Hermione gave them reproachful looks.

"Hermione," said Cynthia, "I know customs are different in the muggle world, but here we don't kill people just because they're gingers."

"I wasn't...I wouldn't..." spluttered Hermione.

"She's giving you a hard time." clarified Marcus. Hermione collapsed in a nearby chair.

"I'm very sorry about this." Cynthia said to the boys mother, who was using her wand to staunch the blood flow on his forehead.

"It's quite all right." said the woman. "It's no worse than what they do to each other." More red heads were encroaching. There was a little girl and three older boys, two of which looked identical down to the last freckle.

"All this red hair in one place." said Cynthia, suddenly very thoughtful. "You must be the Weasleys."

"Yes." said the woman hesitantly.

"You must be Molly Weasley." said Cynthia. "I am a staunch supporter of your husbands muggle protection act."

"Oh, how nice." said Molly, giving a smile. "He appreciates all the help he can get."

"He also investigated me last year for putting illegal charms on an airplane." Cynthia continued without breaking her polite cadence.

Molly's smile faltered.

"I deserved it." Cynthia clarified. "Muggles would notice if a plane stopped in midair and started reversing."

Harry was momentarily distracted as one of the book from Hermione's pile shot out and started flying around. The monster book of monsters started jumping from shelf to shelf and eventually alighted on top of Harry's head and began chewing on his cap.

He pulled it off and threw it on the ground. Marcus dropped Braham's Epic on top of it. It gave a helpless squeak.

Harry felt about his head to make sure it was all still there. He noticed that the Weasleys were all looking at him in a trance. Cynthia had a cautions look, like someone had brought a box of matches into a firework factory. They were all transfixed on his lightning bolt scar.

"Merlin's Pants!" yelled one of the twins. "It's Harry Potter!"

And then pandemonium broke out.

~o!o~

A few hours later, Cynthia and the children were stumbling out of Diagon Alley. Cynthia was missing one shoe and her normally disciplined hair was standing at odd angles. Hermione had a copy of the Godsworth's Archaic Lexicon stuck in her hair. Harry was wearing a new sock hat that came down to his shoulders and covered all his discernible features. Marcus, who had escaped to the reference section before the screaming started was unscathed and carrying all their bags.

From the word 'Harry Potter' every head in the shop had turned to lock on to him. There had been a mad rush from all sides to shake his hand. His arm was numb to the elbow. He had never had so many people introduce themselves to him at the same time. On any other day, that would really seem strange.

They were all taking lunch in a muggle restaurant. Cynthia was looking at a pocket mirror trying to straighten her hair out.

"Can I take the hat off now?" asked Harry. He was having difficulty trying to navigate his sandwich past his ski mask.

"No," answered Hermione, who still hadn't extracted the lexicon from her locks.

"We're safe here." said Cynthia, reaching over and pulling off the hat.

"Why did that happen?" asked Harry. "How does everyone know me? And why do they all like me?"

"You saved them." answered Cynthia.

"With your baby superpowers." contributed Marcus. The forever straight face made it really hard to tell how serious he was being.

Cynthia put a restraining hand on Marcus's arm. She launched into an explanation of the wizarding war ten years ago, stopping occasionally to answer Hermione's question.

"On October 31st, Voldemort went out, alone, to personally execute Lily and James Potter, Harry's parents."

Hermione looked at Harry, terrified on his behalf.

"And then they were all dead." finished Cynthia.

"Wait." Hermione interjected. "People don't just die."

"Everyone dies." pointed out Marcus.

"But there's generally a reason." said Hermione.

"No one knows what happened." said Cynthia. "What we know is that James, Lily, and Harry were in hiding and Voldemort went to kill them. The next morning, there was a big smoking hole in the ground where the Potter house used to be. Lily, James, and Voldemort were nowhere to be found. The only thing they found was little Harry in the bottom of the crater with that scar." she made a lightning bolt pattern on her forehead to demonstrate.

"And Voldemort was just gone?" asked Hermione.

"That's what it looked like." said Cynthia with a shrug. "Suddenly, Death Eaters were flocking to the ministry ready to point fingers and name names. They all claimed they had been bewitched into following orders. The attacks stopped and we entered an era of peace and less murders."

"So I'm famous because I survived whatever happened?" clarified Harry.

"You're famous because people think you killed him." clarified Marcus.

Hermione and Harry both started laughing at the joke, but stopped as Cynthia gave a solemn nod. Marcus expression didn't shift by a gnats length at their embarrassment. Harry made a mental note to never play poker with him.

~o!o~

The sun was setting as Cynthia dropped Harry off at No. 4 Privet Drive.

"Term starts on September 1st." said Cynthia as Harry made his way to the door. "Please have your effects packed and ready on that morning."

She handed him a slip of paper. It had a list of book titles and page numbers on it.

"This is a study guide." she told him. "Kindly have the information committed to memory before you leave."

"Homework?" he asked forlornly.

"Perhaps I was unclear." said Cynthia. "You will be learning to use _magic_."

"I'll start tonight." said Harry.

As he opened the door to his house he heard Cynthia call after him.

"And you are forbidden from using any magic on your cousin." she called.

_Oh, balls._


	5. The Sorting

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 5: The Sorting**

_"There is a place for everything and everything has its place."_

* * *

><p>It was the first day of term and Harry was waiting on the pavement outside No. 4 Privet Drive. Looking too eager be damned.<p>

His suitcase was standing next to him. It was a slender case with a brushed iron shell. Harry had wondered how he was going to fit all his supplies in there. His Transfiguration textbook alone was twice as thick as the case. When he finally opened it the bottom of the suitcase was missing and there was a ladder in its place leading down into a small room. When he lifted the suitcase up off his cot he found that the room moved along with it and the suitcase was just as tiny. Everything had fit and there was room left over to accommodate the contents of the Dudley's second bedroom.

He was looking out eager down Privet Drive. He heard a horn honk from the direction he wasn't looking in. He saw Cynthia's black car parked on the curb. He picked up his suitcase and made his way to the car as the door opened. Harry stopped up short. A young man was climbing out of the car, He looked like a scaled up version of Marcus. He wore a black suit with a charcoal turtleneck. His hair was longer and wavy and he had Cynthia's same gentle smile. He had pale blue eyes that Harry found himself staring at for too long.

"Hello Harry." said Marcus, who had climbed out of the car unnoticed. "Mother had a matter she had to deal with, so Diego is going to take us to the station."

Diego held his hand out to Harry, who took it automatically.

"Hello," he said in a deep soothing voice. "I am Diego Montefiore, Marcus and Raleigh's older brother."

While he continued looking into Diego's eyes he wondered vaguely who Raleigh was.

"Hi!" said a voice from waist level. Harry felt a pair of arms wrap around his hips. He looked down to see a child, smiling brightly. He didn't look like either of his brothers. His hair was a tawny red color and his skin had a darker tone. He looked up at Harry with greenish brown eyes. All his facial feature seem to have been arranged to give his smile the highest possible surface area on his head. All in all, he was unfairly cute.

"I'm Raleigh!" he said.

A short while later they were all in the car. Harry was seated in the back between Diego and Marcus. Raleigh was curled up on Marcus's lap while Marcus embraced him gently.

"Have you been studying your textbooks?" Diego asked Harry.

"Yes." Harry said quietly.

"You are a good student." said Diego, smiling. "Your teachers will be well pleased to have you in their class." Harry felt a confidence filling him that had previously been occupied by nervousness.

The car stopped and Harry wondered if they were at the school already. He looked around and saw they were actually outside Hermione Granger's house.

"If you'll excuse me a moment." Diego said getting out of the car. He returned in a trice with Hermione following him. He was carrying her suitcase.

Hermione had a dazed look atypical of her normally attentive nature.

"I think," said Marcus, without even a hint of a smirk, "she looked directly into the Diego."

Raleigh tittered. Harry blushed.

They were riding through London a few minutes later. Diego had moved to the front seat to give the children room in back. Hermione was trying very hard not too look at Diego. Harry couldn't blame her. Diego had an … aesthetic appeal.

Eventually the car pulled into King's Cross Station.

"Why are we here?" Harry asked as he carried his suitcase down track 9.

"You will be taking the train to Hogwarts." said Diego, turning to answer Harry's question. A feat that was made difficult by Raleigh ridding on his shoulders. Harry knew from Cynthia's explanation that a train took them on a secret line to an unplottable location in Scotland. He was thinking that the point of entry would be a more clandestine location. On closer reflection, it was pretty sneaky hiding a train in a train station.

"Platform 9 or 10?" he asked.

"9 and Three Quarters." said Hermione. "I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."

"What does that mean?" asked Harry.

"That wasn't in 'Hogwarts: A History'." confessed Hermione.

"It's here." said Diego, standing facing wall between Platforms 9 and 10. Then he stepped through the wall. Harry suspected he wouldn't just appear on the other side of the Platform. Marcus followed him, and disappeared into the brick work. Harry made sure his cap was on snug and gave Hermione a nod which she returned. They joined hands and stepped through the barrier.

They came out into a surprisingly unremarkable looking railway platform. Students were running around pulling large trunks and adults could be seen milling around. Diego was making his way to the front of the train with Raleigh twisting around so he could see … everything.

Diego opened up the door to the foremost compartment of the train.

"In you go." he said. Marcus, piled in first, followed by Hermione and finally Harry.

"I wanna go." said Raleigh.

"Not this year." said Marcus. He stood higher to give his little brother a kiss. He leaned down and kissed Diego. Harry felt a little awkward at this display of affection. Then again, he grew up in a home where he hadn't even been hugged. This might be the done thing.

"Good luck at Hogwarts." Diego said to them as he leaned in and kissed Harry on the forehead. This was definitely the done thing.

"If you have any problems do not hesitate to alert me or Mother." he said.

Harry was about to thank him, but found himself being pushed out of the way by Hermione who stood in front of Diego looking innocent and expectant. Diego smirked and kissed her on the forehead. Raleigh and Diego waved with all the other families.

The train had been underway for some time, when they heard a knock at the cabin door. The red head Hermione had clobbered in the Flourish and Blotts was at the door.

"Do you mind?" he asked them. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry made sure his cap was pulled down and looked around for any crowd that might be hiding in the cooridor.

"Do not hesitate to enter." said Marcus, not looking up from his copy of 'Beginners Guide to Transfiguration'.

The red head (Ron, Harry thought his name might be) pulled a cumbersome trunk through the door. Harry helped him to put it up in the rack.

"Nice trunk." Harry said.

"Um, Thanks." said Ron.

"There must be a whole house inside." Harry said.

"Sorry?" said Ron.

"I'm afraid," put in Marcus, "that Ron's trunk is exactly as big as it looks."

"I'm Ron, by the way." he said as he sat down next to Marcus. "Ron Weasley."

"Hermione Granger." Hermione introduced herself

"Marcus Montefiore."

"Harry." he didn't say his surname out loud for fear of his life.

"Sorry about," said Ron, "that thing in the book shop."

"Nearly being trampled to death?" said Hermione. "I had completely forgotten about it."

"It's alright." said Harry, thinking that Hermione was being a little petty.

"It wasn't your fault." Hermione admitted after a pause.

"I believe," Marcus offered, still focused on his textbook, "that announcing Harry Potter was here was the work of Red Head 2(b)."

"George." Ron filled in. "The other one, 2(a), that's Fred."

"Any relation to Arthur Weasley?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah, that's my dad." Ron said.

"The same Arthur Weasley that Lucius Malfoy asserts is a muggle-loving, ignorant, gormless, dingbat?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah." said Ron, glaring at him.

The temperature got colder in the compartment. Marcus flipped to the next page in his book.

"Anyone who enrages Lucius Malfoy into using the word 'dingbat' is a very good friend of mine." Marcus said.

Ron's face went blank with shock. Then broke into a huge grin.

A few hours later, A witch with a trolley had come by selling sweeties. Harry, who had only ever been rationed lifesavers, had bought one of everything and two of everything else.

"This one is eggplant flavored." said an incredulous Hermione after sampling a Jelly Bean.

"Chalk dust." said a disgusted Harry.

"This is bacon." Ron said happily.

"This one is cat." said Marcus impartially.

The other three turned to him.

"How," asked Hermione, "do you know what a cat tastes like?"

"We lived in Haiti for a while." Marcus answered. "They have a very different variety of live stock."

"Did you move around a lot?" asked Hermione.

"Mother's business takes her all over the world." answered Marcus. "And she never leaves us behind." his normal monotone took on a hint of pride. "While I'm at school they will be living in Oregon, investigating the properties of giant mushrooms."

"That's exciting." said Ron, dubiously.

"The exciting part is getting past the giant moles that guard them." said Marcus. "When we lived in Italy, Diego absorbed the custom of kissing people as a greeting or farewell. I'm pretty sure this was because of the girl that lived across the street."

"The Italians do have a beautiful culture." said Hermione.

They talked about his family some more, then Harry brought up a matter that had been bothering him.

"Why is your trunk so big?" Harry asked Ron.

"Uh," said Ron, not sure what the question really was.

"Not everyone has bottomless suitcases." said Marcus, who had moved on to reading El Principe. "Ours were made by Mother, personally. The magic involved is difficult."

Ron looked a little downcast.

"There's no shame in having a suitcase _with _a bottom." said Hermione, backpedaling on Marcus's behalf. "The Queen of England uses finite suitcases exclusively."

"The same is true for the Queen of Scotland." said Harry.

"And the Queen of Belize." supplied Hermione.

"They're the same person." said Ron.

_Oh, balls._

_ "_It must be tight having so many siblings." commented Marcus, who had no facial expressions _or _tact.

"Yeah," said Ron in a small voice.

"How can a Wizard be poor?" Harry asked. Hermione gave him a look that was the facial equivalent of flipping someone off.

"I mean," he backpedaled, "you have _magic. _You can conjure up gold and castles or-"

"No, that's impossible." said Marcus.

"Well, then, what's the point?" asked Harry.

"You can make bottomless suitcases." said Marcus. "Sometimes."

"Don't be discouraged." came a drawling voice from the compartment door. "The Weasleys are suffering the logical fate of blood traitors."

It was Draco Malfoy, the boy they had seen in the seamstresses shop. He was flanked by two, well dressed gorillas.

"My family," he drawled on, "has resplendent wealth. We stay loyal to our kind and reap the rewards of it."

Ron's ears turned the color of his hair. Marcus kept reading. Harry assumed that being sheltered by his mother had given him a false sense of invulnerability. Harry, having been raised by the Dursleys, was always subconsciously watching for where the next blow was coming from.

"You will soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter." Draco continued. "I can help you meet the right people." He held out his hand to Harry.

Harry was about to tell him where he could look to find the right people when the train started grinding to a stop. Outside they could see the lights of a small station in the night.

"We're here." said Marcus. He snapped his book shut and his wand appeared in his hand. Draco's hand was suddenly slammed tight in the compartment door. His two gorillas were left to helplessly try to pull the door open while Marcus grabbed his suitcase and beat a hasty retreat through the other door. They all followed suit, not knowing when the spell would wear off.

"Anyone," Ron said to Diego, "who pisses off Draco is a very good friend of mine."

"Firs' years! Over hear!" they heard from the lee of the platform. "Firs' years!"

They made their way over and soon found themselves at the foot of mountain of a man. Harry added 'giants' to the list of things that were real.

"This way!" he said when the crowd of first years had grown big enough. He led them off into the woods and they came upon a flotilla of small boats at the shore of a massive lake. Harry climbed into a boat with Marcus, Ron, and Hermione. The boat suddenly started moving of its own volition.

On the dark horizon, the lights of a castle hoved into view. It was a huge, rambling, antiquated structure. What little Harry knew about architecture and structural integrity told him it shouldn't be standing.

"The entire building was made using magic." said Hermione. "Without the help of thousands of spells, it couldn't remain standing."

The boats came to dock at the base of the castle. They all disembarked and made their way up long steps. Presently, they came up to the largest set of doors Harry had ever seen. The giant gave it accordingly large knocks. The doors opened smoothly and Harry saw a witch in green robes with a tight bun.

"Firs' years Professor McGonagall." said the giant man.

"Thank you, Hagrid." said Professor McGonagall. "Everyone, inside please."

All the students made their way into the antechamber. Professor McGonagall stopped in front of a set of slightly smaller doors.

"Behind me is the great hall." she said, turning around to address the students. "In a moment you will be led inside and sorted into your houses. The houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has produced many great witches and wizards throughout history. While you are living here, your house will be like your family. There is an interhouse competition where achievements will gain you points and bad behavior will loose you points." Her austere expressions made it clear that anyone loosing _her_ house points would be subject to execution.

"Please follow me." she said, and opened the doors.

As they walked in to the great hall. Harry noticed the ceiling was missing, the same as with Cynthia's car. He was beginning to suspect wizards suffered from claustrophobia.

"It's bewitched to look like the night sky." Hermione was telling a nervous looking boy with a toad. "I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'."

The floor of the hall was crowded with four long tables that ran the length of the room. They were already full of students. The far side of the room, on a raised platform, was a table that sat older witches and wizards. They must have been the professors. In the dead center of the table, in a chair that was more throne like than the others, sat an old man with an impressive beard. Harry recognized him from the chocolate frog card he had found earlier. This was Albus Dumbledore. And sitting on his right hand, was Cynthia! She gave Harry and Marcus a wave. Her simple gray power suit stood out as the only normal clothes at the entire table.

The students walked down the center isle and stopped in front of the teachers table. Professor McGonagall brought over a stool and a tattered old hat. She put the stool in the center of the platform and set the hat on top of it.

They watched the hat not knowing what to expect, then the hat ripped open at the brim and started singing.

Harry, who was a little flummoxed by the singing hat, couldn't fully appreciate the lyrics. The hat sang about the founders wisdom lingering in the hat and how it would decide who would be in which house when it was worn.

When the hat was done the hall applauded. Professor McGonagall pulled out a roll of parchment and began calling names.

"Abbot, Hannah." called Professor McGonagall.

A girl with pigtails walked up to the stool and sat down. Professors McGonagall put the hat on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat cried. The Hufflepuff table burst into applause as Hanna went to join them.

"So we've just got to put on that hat." said Ron. "I'm going to kill Fred. He said we had to wrestle a troll."

Cynthia had told him that in sorting the most secret parts of him would be examined. Harry was relieved that no one was going to go near his secret parts.

They waited while more names were called out until …

"Granger, Hermione!" called Professor McGonagall.

Hermione all but ran up to the stool and jammed the hat on her head. Harry vaguely saw Cynthia shift in her seat. That hat's 'mouth' started to move without sound coming out. This hadn't happened so far. Professor McGonagall tentatively reached out her hand to the hat, confused.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat finally called out. The applause from Ravenclaw was hesitant at first, but soon reached the same dull roar as the other welcomes. Hermione went to the Ravenclaw table and sat next to a blond Prefect who gave her a welcoming pat on the shoulder.

The next few sortings went off without a hitch. Then they came to:

"Malfoy, Draco!" called Professor McGonagall.

The smirking blond sauntered up to the stool. As the hat went down on his head, Cynthia shrugged.

"GRYFFINDOR!" called the hat.

There was dead silence from the Gryffindor table. From the Slytherin table, the sound of 100 jaws collectively dropping could be heard. It made a 'creak' sound.

Professor McGonagall shot a glare at the Gryffindors. They burst out into thunderous applause, made creepy by the fact that everyone was clapping at the same rhythm and all the applauders had an expression of blank shock.

Draco walked over to the Gryffindor table in a trance.

"Montefiore, Marcus." called Professor McGonagall, who was now holding the hat like it had just accused her of prostitution.

The hat was on his head a full half second before it called out: "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table gave out a restricted applause. Marcus didn't seem bothered by it as he walked over to sit by Bulstrode, Millicent.

Harry waited nervously as the alphabet marched on. At last, to his excitement and horror:

"Potter, Harry!" called Professor McGonagall. There was muttering all around the hall.

"...did she say potter?"

"Can you see him? I can't see him."

"Is he cute?"

"He's adorable."

Harry walked up to the stool and sat himself down. He looked out on the hundreds of students at the four tables. They all had a hungry look.

Professor McGonagall pulled off his knit cap and put the sorting hat on his head as everyone craned to get a look at his scar.

_Hello, Mr. Potter._ said a voice in his head. It occurred to harry that the hat had access to his thoughts. This is what Cynthia meant by most secret parts. The parts no one else would ever see unless you showed them. All your memories, fears, and dreams. This ratty topper had better not be a gossip!

_I never gossip!_ said the voice indignantly. _Now, where to put you. I see you have a-a-a-a-a-a_

The hat sounded like it was playing a scratched record. The could feel the seam of the hats mouth flapping around saying nothing. Harry guessed that if he'd been doing this job for a millennium, he'd stammer a little, too. Maybe if they had it blocked...

"HUFFLEPUFF!" cried the hat.

The Hufflepuff table broke out in wild applause. Harry went to sit next to Finch-Fletchly, Justin. He looked up at the staff table to see Cynthia smiling at him with her hand over her heart. His new housemates shook his hand and clapped him on the back.

He was getting introduced when he heard:

"Weasley, Ronald!" Professor McGonagall called.

When he put the hat on the hat his large ears kept it aloft. Up at the staff table, Harry saw Cynthia mutter something to apparently no one.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat called. It was so unexpected, that the Gryffindor table started applauding and Ron walked over to them. Then everyone froze in place. Red heads 2(a) and 2(b) were the first to break the stunned silence.

"Give him a do over! Give him a do over!"

Ron looked up at the teachers. He had a pleading look on his face. Whether it was a 'give me a do over' plead or a 'kill me now' plead, Harry couldn't tell.

A wizard with long greasy black hair indicated the Slytherin table too him. He shuffled over to the Slytherin table where Marcus put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

After Zabinni, Blaise was sorted into Slytherin, Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the student body.

"I have a few words to say before we begin the feast." said Dumbledore. "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Gadfly!"

Then a wealth of food appeared in front of them. Harry tucked in. The Dursleys hadn't exactly starved him, but feeding him hadn't been a priority either.

Presently, Harry noted that one of the teachers was staring at him.

"Cedric," he said to a fourth year he had just met. "Who's that teacher with the flowing ebony locks?"

Cedric gave a laugh and told him it was Professor Snape.

"He teaches potions, but everyone knows he wants to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He's been after Professor Quirrell's job for years."

"Which one is Quirrell?" Harry asked.

"Professor Quirrell." Cedric corrected. "He's the simpering one in the Mauve Turban."

Professor Quirrell was speaking to Cynthia. Harry suddenly felt a foreign burning sensation on his forehead. When he reached up to touch it, his fingers brushed the leathery skin of his scar.

When the food was eaten, Professor Dumbledore made a second, slightly more coherent speech. The students were reminded that the forbidden forest was off limits. The third floor corridor by the Charms classrooms was also off limits this year, and would here after be referred to as the forbidden corridor. Then they were all dismissed to go.

The prefect Lilly Tomlin led the first year out of the hall. As they entered the antechamber, they noticed a scuffle going on. Ron and Draco were going at it and there was a goodly amount of bystanders chanting 'fight! fight! fight!'. It was probably a good thing that they were in different houses. Marcus suddenly appeared behind Ron and started to pull him back to the Slytherins. Draco wasn't willing to let go of Ron's ear anymore than Ron was willing to let go of his hair. Harry ran up and grabbed Draco around his waist to pull him away. The scrawny blond was surprisingly strong. As the two aggressors tried to maul each other, Hermione put herself between the two and started pushing them apart.

"Will you two get a grip!" she remonstrated.

"I'm holding on as tight as I can." said Marcus. Anyone else would be grimacing with effort.

"Not you!" said Hermione.

"Isn't this a nice display of interhouse unity." said Cynthia, appearing beside them.

Harry suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder. Then, a feeling of content bliss washed over him. Ron seemed to relax in his grip. Cynthia pulled all the combatants into a clumsy group hug.

"Smile." said Cynthia.

"Huh?" asked Harry. Then he saw a flash of light and heard a camera click.


	6. Settling In

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 6: Settling In**

_"Failure to adapt is fatal."_

* * *

><p>Harry Potter woke up in his four poster bed and stretched. He had been at Hogwarts for a month and was getting very fond of not sleeping on a cot. He pushed his yellow bed curtains aside to see the other two beds in the room had not yet been vacated. Justin and Ernie still weren't awake by the time Harry was ready to go to breakfast.<p>

He headed down the dorm corridor until he reached a round wooden door that resembled a huge barrel top. He went through it into the Hufflepuff common room. The room was filled with plush armchairs and already had a fire going. The first rays of sunlight were streaming in from windows in the ceiling.

Harry walked over to one of the couches to a recumbent figure that was snoring loudly. He pulled back the blanket to reveal the slumbering Ron Weasley.

"Hey, Ron." he called, shaking him gently.

"Whuh!" Ron jumped up and looked around wildly. In the absence of any attackers, he calmed down.

"Rough night?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." said Ron.

The Slytherins had not been entirely accommodating to Ron. Something to do with a longstanding gripe between the Weasley twins and every Slytherin they had ever met. Also, one of the prefects was hungry for revenge against the time when Ron's now graduated brother, Bill, had turned his hair into a jellyfish.

There had been some nasty altercations. He had ended up in the hospital wing a few times. Marcus would stand up for him, if he was there at the time. As a result, Marcus was also a regular in the hospital wing.

Harry let them know that if things got too bad, they could come to his house. He would lay a blanket on one of the couches in case they had to escape their house in the dead of night.

Ron had come in a few times, but Marcus was too proud to run. And they were _both _too proud to ask Professor Snape for help.

They both left the Hufflepuff house. They came out of an alcove in the dungeon. As they walked away, the barrel that was guarding the door shifted back into place.

When they reached the Great Hall, they found Marcus was already eating at the Slytherin Table.

"Good morning." he said as they approached. He pulled a satchel out from under the table and handed it to Ron. "Got your books. And some clothes."

"Thanks," said Ron, thrilled beyond words that he had his homework back.

"We made the paper." said Hermione, who appeared at Ron's side. She handed them a copy of the Daily Prophet. There was an article about the start of the new school year. Below it was a picture of the Cynthia holding him with Marcus, Draco, Ron, and Hermione. They were all grinning goofily at the camera. Again he wondered what spell she used to make them all giddy when they had been fighting a minute ago. Maybe he could use it to give Ron and Marcus a break with the other Slytherins. And if that worked then maybe they could hash out the middle east.

"Oh, look." said Marcus, "your Rat is bitting Draco Malfoy's ear."

"Good old Scabbers." said Ron, giving a lump in his pocket an affectionate pat.

"Speaking of which." said Hermione, looking towards the door.

Draco Malfoy was walking into the Great Hall. His hair was a mess. And it had turned purple. His first night in Gryffindor he had insulted every member of the Weasley family, individually and in great detail. Things had gone downhill from there. Fred and George had been pulling every prank in their repertoire and were going to keep doing so right up until Draco lost the will to live.

"Hurry up and finish breakfast." Hermione told Harry. "We have Potions first."

~o!o~

Harry knew, from his mother's old effects, that her favorite subject was Potions. He was determined to do well in that class to make her proud.

That being said, this class was awful. Professor Snape hated Harry. The first day in class, Hufflepuff got docked ten points for not knowing what a bezoar was. The week after, he got a zero on a potion that was the wrong shade of green. Never mind that everyone else's potion was pink. Neville's was a lovely shade of BOOM!

"Well, Mr. Potter." said Snape, stirring Harry's cauldron. "I see you've stumbled upon a new recipe for oatmeal." He dropped the ladle and wiped invisible residue off his hands.

"It's a shame," said Snape, "that we were making a pepper-up potion."

Harry though that was unfair. It wasn't that lumpy. He tried to pull the ladle out of the cauldron, but the potion had set up like cement. Ok, it was totally fair. Harry made a note in his Potions text book that bubotuber puss should be cooled slowly.

"Do you make it a hobby of defacing your textbook, Potter?" asked Snape, who was very suddenly looking over his shoulder.

Harry had the feeling that this was a loaded question. Snape looked over the notes he'd been writing in the margins, then he just moved on without further comment.

"Potions is probably the only class I have to study extra for to scrape a failing grade." said harry as he walked out towards the quidditch pitch with Hermione.

"I'm sure you'll get the knack of it." said Hermione. "I wasn't very good at first."

"Oh, yeah." said Harry, remembering when she had to test her calming draught. "How is Terry?"

"His nose is growing back in." said Hermione.

"And his teeth?"

"We're still looking."

They arrived on the quidditch pitch to find the first years from all the houses. Today was the first flying lesson. There were some older students sitting the bleachers high above. Talent Scouts. Some of the students were muggle-borns who had only ever dreamed of flying or dreamed of flying without first being fondled by airport security. Hermione had a fear of heights, but was determined to master all areas of magic.

"All right!" cried Madame Hooch. "You are going to hold your hand over the broom and say 'up!'"

Harry held his hand over the broom lying on the grass next to him.

"Up." he said forcefully.

His broom didn't move. Hermione's simply rolled over. Ron's hit him in the face. Marcus stared his broom down until it jumped into his hands.

Eventually, all the brooms were hovering solidly at waist level.

"Now," said Madame Hooch. "Mount your brooms."

Harry tried to mount his broom, but it immediately collapsed back to ground level. Marcus sat down on his like it was a park bench.

"Al right," said Madame Hooch, who was by now grinning like a lark, the sadist, "When I blow my whistle, you are going to lift off from the ground and then land."

When he heard the whistle, he pushed off from the ground as hard as he could. And then...

"I think he's coming around." said Marcus.

Harry looked around. The quidditch pitch had transformed into the hospital wing. Marcus, Ron, and Hermione were standing at his bedside.

"How.." he started, "What happened?"

"It's a good story." said Marcus. "Do you remember the Astronomy tower?"

"Yes, I..." Harry paused. "What do you mean '_remember_'?"

~o!o~

Rufus Scrimgeour hated liaising with the prison guards at Azkaban. It tended to be very draining. Dementors had a way of sucking the life out of you. However, he had drawn the short straw and fair was fair.

The Office of Magical Law enforcement had received an owl from Azkaban earlier that day that there was something wrong with one of the prisoners. He was at Azkaban now, reviewing the report the Dementors had just given him.

"Let me get this straight." said Scrimgeour. "Sirius Black, who hasn't said anything for the past decade, began muttering 'He's at Hogwarts' in his sleep?"

The Dementor nodded. Yes.

"And you discovered he had this newspaper article hidden under his urine-soaked mattress?" Scrimgeour continued.

The Dementor nodded more vigorously. Yes, they had.

Scrimgeour looked down at the aforementioned article. It was an article about the new year starting at Hogwarts. The picture was of Cynthia Montefiore and several students, one of which was being chewed on by a rat. He then looked at the cell of Sirius Black.

"And by the time you found this, he had been missing for _how _long?"

~o!o~

Draco Malfoy was looking around nervously as he made his way up the East Tower. His paranoia was warranted. Fred and George were looking down on him from the landing above with a bucket of undiluted bubotuber puss. They were getting ready to douse Draco into an advanced case of leprosy.

"Target is three degrees aft." whispered Fred to George.

"Wind speed is 2 meters per hour." whispered George to Fred.

"Partially cloudy with a chance of showers." said Marcus.

Fred and George jumped at his sudden appearance. They weren't sure about Marcus. On the one hand, he was a Slytherin. On the other hand, he was Ron's friend. Ron was a Slytherin, too, come to that, and they loved him. The demarcation of good and evil was starting to blur.

"What are you doing?" asked Marcus.

"We're going to cover Draco Malfoy with bubotuber induced boils." said George with sadistic glee.

"Isn't he in your house?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah," said Fred, "but he's a Malfoy son of a Death Eater."

"Neither of those offenses are actually _his _fault." Marcus pointed out.

"He's still a git." said George. "He called Fred a bloodtraitor and me a Muggle-lover."

"That must have hurt your feelings." said Marcus.

"Well...no, we don't care about that kind of thing." admitted Fred.

"I'm sure your reasons are good and valid." said Marcus. "I just wanted to tell you Ron will be spending the night in the hospital wing."

"What? Why?" Fred and George asked.

"Flint cursed the teeth out of his head. They're growing back now." Marcus answered. "Something about Ron being a Weasley son of a Muggle-lover. I'm sure he'd appreciate a visit when he wakes up."

With that, Marcus turned and left. Fred and George looked back over the banister to see Draco had stopped directly below them on the stair well. They picked up the bucket of bubotuber puss and held it ready to pour. Then they set the bucket back down and walked down to meet Draco before he could walk into the spike pit.

~o!o~

Harry stared down at the feast before him wondering where to begin. Hogwarts went all out for the Halloween feast. Halloween was a big deal in the wizarding world. Classes had been suspended for the day. No homework had been assigned over the weekend. Professor Snape was seen smiling.

Harry took a sampling of the dishes around him. There was pumpkin butternut soup, pumpkin risotto, pumpkin ravioli, turkey dogs, and pumpkin stuffing. His skin was going to start turning orange if he kept up this diet. He had been quite surprised at the pumpkin juice when he first arrived. He didn't know you could juice a pumpkin. He'd had a fleeting image of Hagrid stomping around in a swimming pool sized barrel full of crushed pumpkins like a woman crushing grapes for wine. He stuck to water after that.

At the Gryffindor table the Twins were sitting on either side of Draco. Their housemates were shooting them suspicious glances. For the past few weeks now, the Twins had changed from being active aggressors to deflecting pranks away from Draco. For his part, Draco was keeping all his racist, supremacist, bigoted, bucolic opinions to himself. No one was very happy with the arrangement, but things weren't as bad as they could be, which was all you could ask of a peace treaty.

Strangely absent was Hermione from Ravenclaw. Marcus and Ron were not seated with the Slytherins, but they usually avoided their housemates like the plague. More so, now that it was plague season.

Harry turned to Hannah Abbot to ask her if she'd seen Hermione since they had History of Magic together.

"Padma Patil said she ran out of the charms room crying. She's locked herself in the bathroom." Hannah answered.

"Why did-" Harry's question was cut short by Professor Quirrell running full tilt into the great hall, screaming.

"Troll!" he shrieked. "Troll in the Dungeon!" he ran up to the staff table. "There's a Troll in the Dungeon!"

The other Professors faces slowly morphed into masks of horror, save for Dumbledore, who looked severe.

"Thought you ought to know," said Quirrell, who fainted dead away.

The great hall broke into utter pandemonium. Dumbledore silenced the hall with several bangs from his wand.

"Prefects." he said in a calm authoritative voice. "Lead your students to the dormitories."

Everyone set out at once. Students formed unnaturally straight lines behind their prefects, terrified of being lost.

As Harry followed closely behind Justin, he reflected on how glad he was that he wasn't wandering in the halls on his lonesome. Then another thought inconvenienced his waking mind. He broke off from his group unnoticed and sidled along the walls of the Great Hall to get to the Charms Corridor.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked him as he was sneaking by the group of Gryffindors on their way to the tower.

"Hermione," said Harry in a whisper, "She's in the girls bathroom. She doesn't know about the troll. Marcus and Ron aren't her either." he then hurried off down a secret staircase behind the tapestry of Watanuki the singing pig.

Draco gave a shake of his head. If the teachers caught him sneaking around while Hogwarts was at DefCon 1 he'd be expelled and never see Hogwarts again. This thought replayed itself once more in his mind before he broke off from his group and followed Harry. There were, after all, other schools in Europe.

~o!o~

"I said I was sorry!" said Ron to the girls bathroom door.

Hermione could still he heard sniffling inside. She had locked herself in the latrine after Ron had called her 'an insufferable know-it-all' in the Charms class Ravenclaws had with Slytherins.

"You did laugh when my feather exploded." said Ron. She bawled harder.

"I was, personally, very impressed with your levitation." said Marcus. He had no skill in dealing with women, but he figured compliments were the way to go. Maybe he could lure her out with chocolate.

"Professor Flitwick said it was great wrist work. And diction." he tried again.

"Yes, it was." Ron said. "I was just being mean because I was jealous." The admission was so astounding that Marcus actually raised an eyebrow. Hermione stopped in mid sob.

A thundering sound behind him broke Marcus out of his revere. He turned around to see what it was.

"I'm sorry I-Hey!" Ron shouted as Marcus thrust him into the girls bathroom.

Hermione looked up from her seat on the loo to see Marcus breaking in with Ron, then shutting the door behind him and sliding the latch. The put his back to the door like he was bracing it.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" asked Ron, feeling out of place in the girls lavatory.

"What _are _you doing?" asked Hermione, feeling out of place in the lavatory Ron was in.

"Well," he started, "you're not gonna believe this, but..."

And then something huge hit the door.

~o!o~

"Oh, bugger." said Harry.

Really, what _were_ the odds that the Troll would find the one bathroom in the whole castle with the delicious people filling.

Draco and Harry had come up the landing just in time to see Marcus and Ron duck into the bathroom. The Troll was now hammering on the door with its club.

"How do we handle a Troll?" Harry asked Draco, not bothering to whisper with all the noise it was making.

"If the door holds long enough, it will forget why it was trying to get in." answered Draco.

The door gave a lurch.

"And If the door _doesn't _hold long enough?" asked Harry.

"Don' worry." said Draco. "I know exactly what to do."

"Good." said Harry, getting his wand ready to help.

Draco turned and ran back down the stairs.

"We get a teacher! That's what we do!" he called out.

"You sensible bastard." said Harry

~o!o~

"What do we do?" cried Hermione, hunkering down in a toilet stall.

"Make sure our wills are up to date." said Marcus, still trying to brace the door.

Ron looked around frantically. There must be something in here they could use. They had magic, but he didn't know any spells that would make it any less threatening. If it had a tea cozy they could transfigure it into a coffee pot; that was the extent of their cumulative magical skill. They were stuck in a bathroom. Why couldn't they be stuck in an armory? Or a room that transforms into anything you want? He knew he was just being silly at this point though.

Seriously, a bathroom. All they had in here were sinks and mirrors and toilets. What were they going to do? Drown the troll in three inches of water?

...then again...

"Hermione!" Ron cried. She looked up at him.

"Do you remember," he asked, "about three weeks ago when Professor Flitwick taught us how to make water run uphill?"

"Yes." she said uncertainly.

"Good." he answered. "Now turn all the taps on high." He walked over to one of the toilets and gave the valve on the wall a good kick.

"What?" she asked.

"Just do it!" he yelled. She ran over to the nearest sink and started twisting the taps off. Ron gave the valve another kick and water stared spraying everywhere.

~o!o~

Harry was going through his spell repertoire trying to think of anything that could disarm a troll. So far, all he could think of was with enough tickling charms it might die laughing. That hadn't worked.

The troll was one good swing away from bringing down the door, so he did the only thing he could think of and shot a stinging hex at its ear.

The troll stopped in mid swing, then turned around to face him slowly. It stood there and regarded him silently while its brain processed the equation 'snack minus door in the way equals two snacks behind big door'.

Then, to Harry's dual sense of achievement and pant wetting horror, the Troll turned away from the bathroom and started lumbering toward him.

He turned to run, but, because conventions must be followed, tripped on the hem of his robe. As he tried to prop himself, the troll grabbed his legs with its unencumbered hand and held him aloft. As the troll held him upside down the train of his robes fell down over his upper half and he found himself inside a tent of his own clothes. He couldn't see what was going on as he tried to claw an opening in the fabric. He could be hanging in the troll's open mouth for all he knew.

This is it, he thought to himself. I'm going to die. He gave the fabric one last thrash. I'm going to die wearing a dress!

Then he heard a strangled gurgling noise. Then the pressure around his legs was released and he felt himself falling. He landed with a splash. A very hard splash.

He pulled the damn robe off and took stock of the situation. The troll had dropped him and his club and was clawing at it's face. It's head was covered in a bubble of water. The water was running up the trolls body from the massive puddle on the floor. The source of the puddle was the besieged bathroom, where Harry could still hear water pouring in torrents. Marcus, Hermione, and Ron had their wands pointed at the troll and were muttering incantations.

"Is it..." Harry asked no one in particular as he watched the troll try unsuccessfully to pull the enchanted water away from its face, "Is it _drowning_?"

"That is the idea." said Ron.

"It's actually really clever." said Hermione.

"It's unconscionable." said Marcus, who, nevertheless, kept up the spell.

Harry brandished his wand to help. The minute he waved it, all the water sprang up and encased the trolls entire body in a thick prison of ice. The head was left unencumbered and it appeared to be sleeping soundly.

"Woah!" said Ron appreciatively. "Harry! What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything." said Harry.

"No, I did." came a voice from down the hall.

They all turned to see Dumbledore standing at the end of the corridor with all the other Hogwarts teachers. They could see Draco cowering behind Professor McGonagall, who had a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"What," said Professor Snape, breaking the silence, "has happened here? And why," he pointed at Harry, "are you undressed?"

Harry looked down to realize that taking the robe off had left him naked from the waist up. He crossed his arms over his chest reflexively. They all started to explain at once.

"What happened was-"

"You see-"

"I was just-"

"It's my fault." said Hermione. They all turned and looked at her. Hermione's _fault? _The teachers were never going to buy that.

_ "_I thought I could handle the troll." she continued. "I'd read so much about them and I thought I could get rid of it. I'd be dead if they hadn't come to save me."

Harry was astounded. Hermione was not only lying to a teacher, but all the teachers at once.

"Well," said Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw head of house. "That was extremely foolish Ms. Granger. 10 points from Ravenclaw. And you are expressly forbidden from going after any more trolls."

"Mr. Montefiore, Mr. Weasley," said Snape, with a sly smile. "You showed great bravery and ingenuity. 10 points each for Slytherin."

"Mr. Malfoy," said McGonagall, who knew a good idea when she saw it. "In coming to find us to help your friends, you showed good sense like a true Gryffindor. 10 points."

"10 points for Hufflepuff." put in Professor Sprout. "I'm sure Potter was involved."

"That's all settled then." said Professor Dumbledore with a smile. "Kindly take your students to their houses."

Professor Sprout came forward and put he shawl around Harry's shoulders then steered him to the entrance hall with the other students. They reached the entrance hall where they all had to go separate ways to their houses.

"Thanks." they all said simultaneously. A pause and then:

"No Problem." they all said in unison. They all went on their way.

After that, they were all friends forever.

~o!o~

The next morning, Harry was helping himself to pumpkin waffles in the great hall when he heard bells chiming from the front of the hall. He looked up to the staff table to see Dumbledore standing up and waving his wand about, trying to get everyones attention. When all the students were looking up at him he began speaking in grave tones.

"I have recently received word from the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

A few people gave loud coughs that sounded suspiciously like 'tosser'.

"He has informed me of a very grave threat to security." Dumbledore continued. "Yesterday, by unknown means, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban."

The hall was filled with the thunderous sound of a thousand people whispering to each other.

"Some of you," said Dumbledore, reigning back their attention, "know him as a supporter of Voldemort-" the hall cringed, "-responsible for one confirmed mass muggle killing.

"In a response to this threat, the Ministry is giving us extra security measures until such a time when he can be apprehended. For those of you who do not know, let me explain what a Dementor is..."


	7. Blue Christmas

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 7: Blue Christmas**

_"Fear not. For I bring you good tidings of great joy for all people."_

* * *

><p>The Dementors had achieved something that many deemed impossible. They actually made a Scottish winter colder. Those nasty things had no respect for boundaries. Dumbledore had told them, in no uncertain terms, while waving his wand threateningly, that they were not allowed on Hogwarts grounds. However, the bait of all that childish happiness was too tasty to resist.<p>

The Hufflepuffs third year History of Magic class had suddenly felt a deep penetrating terror as a shadowy specter flitted past the classroom window.

The Ravenclaws fourth year astronomy class had come back down from their nightly stargazing vigil muttering about the empty blackness swallowing them up.

A first year Gryffindor actually tried to jump into the lake, carried away by the sense of hopelessness. Fortunately, Fred and George dragged him to Dumbledore's office and Draco was feeling much better three mugs of hot cocoa later.

The Slytherins made no complaints about the new security arrangement. Make of that what you will.

The disturbances had become so pervasive that the teachers had taken to conjuring up patronuses to patrol their rooms during class time. A patronus, as Harry understood it, was a happy thought in physical form. It normally took the form of an animal. A patronus could keep the effects of the Dementors at bay. In the case of Professor Sprouts badger patronus, it could actually _chase _the Dementors away. The result of this arrangement was, for the first time in history, Students were scrambling to get _into _class and taking their time _leaving_.

The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were taking their time leaving their last class for the day. Professor Flitwick's tarantula patronus was rubbing affectionately against Ron's leg. Either it was clueless to the discomfort it was causing or it knew exactly what it was doing. Either way, Ron was raging an internal battle between his fear of spiders and his hatred of Dementors.

"Buzz off." said Harry, conjuring a gust of wind that blew the tarantula into Milicent Bulstrode's bun.

"Thanks." said a relieved Ron.

"That was nice of you." said Marcus, pulling an envelope of his bag. "You deserve a treat." He handed Harry the envelope.

Harry opened it and found an invitation with spiked calligraphy inscription.

_Harry James Potter_

_You are cordially invited_

_to spend the Christmas Holidays_

_with the Montefiore Family_

_at the Greater Andaman Islands_

"I can spend Christmas with you?" asked Harry, who had been vacillating between the Dursleys and Dementors. After he had heard from Aunt Petunia that Aunt Marge was coming for a visit, he decided he could learn to love those soul sucking bastards.

"Yes." said Marcus.

"That's great!" said Harry. "but," he looked back over the invitation, "why did she send it in writing?" Marcus could have just passed the offer along verbally.

"Because you have to show that note to the Dursleys before we come to pick you up from No. 4 Privet Drive." Marcus answered. "You have to go home first."

~o!o~

"It makes sense." said Hermione while she and Harry walked to the library. "She can't just take someone else's child from the train station. The implications would be horrifying."

"It doesn't matter." said Harry, trying to sound resilient. "One quick visit to the Dursleys and then I'm off to the Greater Andaman Islands."

He basked in this happy thought for a while, until his curiosity overwhelmed his desire to look smart.

"Where _are_ the Greater Andaman Islands?" he asked.

"The Greater Andaman Islands are off the coast of India." said a deep sinister voice. They turned slowly, hoping someone other than Professor Snape was addressing them.

No such luck.

"The archipelago is under the complete control of the Indian Ministry of Magic." Snape continued, sauntering over to them. "The Islands are far enough away from any muggle settlement and in a current system that keeps away any curious mariners. You could conjur up a fifty foot long purple dragon at high noon and no one would notice. The ability to practice flashy magic with impunity is very appealing to a certain, disgustingly wealthy demographic."

"So, you won't be there, then?" asked Harry.

"No, Mr. Potter." said Snape. "But do enjoy your vacation. Maybe while your their you'll find an island you like and buy it."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry confused.

Snape rolled his eyes. Nothing ruined a good insult like having to explain it.

"You can use your disgusting wealth to buy one of the luxurious islands that most mortals will only ever read about." said Snape.

"I don't have money." said Harry, thinking Snape might have spent all this time mistaking him from someone else. On their trip to Gringotts they had only gone to Cynthia's vault. She hadn't even mentioned him having a vault, let alone there being money in it.

"Cynthia bought all my stuff, and the Durselys sent me off with a five pound note."

"She paid for my supplies, too." filled in Hermione. "We all went to Diagon Alley together."

Now Snape was genuinely confused.

"That makes no sense." he said. "Your father, James Potter, had wealth." he emphasized wealth in the same way an astronomer would tell someone that the universe was big. "You must have inherited a pile of gold with your face engraved on it."

~o!o~

Harry was sitting under the stairs at the Dursley's house. The Hogwarts Express had arrived earlier that day. He had been picked up by the Dursleys at King's Cross Station and had been waiting at their house for the past three hours listening to Aunt Marge talk about how Vernon should authorize St. Brutus's School for Incurably Criminal Boys to beat him more frequently. St. Brutus's was the School the Dursleys were telling everyone Harry was attending. It was still better than public school.

He would have been more irritated by this if his thoughts weren't occupied by the missing pile of gold. He had never wanted wealth. He wasn't a greedy person. But a pile of gold would go a long way to making sure he would never see the underside of the Dursley's stairs again. What really interested him was that he might have inherited other things of theirs. Old photo albums, His Dad's first broomstick, His mothers favorite cauldron. He could have access to the knowledge of who his parents actually were.

Unfortunately, there was only one person he had access to who knew anything about his parents. Which was why he was sidling into the kitchen where his Aunt Petunia was scrubbing the inside of the dishwasher.

"Aunt Petunia," he said quietly.

She looked up at him.

"Yes, what is it?" she snapped.

"When my parents died," he began, not noticing that Marge and Vernon's conversation had ceased. "Did they...leave me anything?"

"We never found a will." said Petunia. "The house was gone. There was the box I gave you, other than that I don'-"

"Left you anything?" brayed a very drunk Marge. "What? Did you think your drug dealer parents were going to leave you the family meth recipe?"

Harry turned and walked out of the kitchen before things could reach fever pitch.

"Don't you walk away from me, boy!" said Marge, boosting herself to her feet. She made her way to Harry who started backing up.

"You should be grateful to my brother." she bleated. "I would have sent you straight to the orphanage."

Harry continued backing up down the hall as she advanced.

"Better yet." she continued, "I would have just culled you before anyone knew where you were. Drowned you like a runt of the litter."

Harry now had his back against the front door. She was pushed right up against him, her pudgy finger pointed in his face.

"Your parents were absolute trash!" she harped. "And you'll come to be just as bad you little-"

The door opened behind him. He stumbled backwards and Marge just fell over onto the front stoop.

"Hello, Harry." he heard Cynthia's voice from the curb. Harry turned to see the gentle, smiling face of Cynthia Montefiore. She held out her open hand to Harry.

Harry ran right up to Cynthia and wrapped his arms around her. She embraced him without a hint of a pause. It all came out then, and he started crying into her blazer. She held him a little tighter.

Behind him, she heard a groan and rumble that might have been caused by Marge Dursley hauling herself to her feat. He then heard lumbering footsteps that could have been caused by her making her way towards them.

"What are you doing here?" Marge brayed.

"Leaving," said Cynthia, "but first..."

Harry felt one of Cynthia's arms let go of him and make a sweeping movement, like one might make if they were casting a curse.

~o!o~

The day of Christmas Eve, Cynthia was dozing in a hammock. It was strategically placed on the porch of her beach house so it maximized the amount of breeze while keeping her in the shade. A few meters away was the Indian ocean. She could hear Raleigh laughing while he played with Diego, Harry and Marcus in the surf. When last she had looked up he Raleigh was riding on Diego into deeper waters. It was shameful how much control that little squirt had over them.

She heard a creak next to her from someone stepping onto the porch. She opened one eye and saw a sopping wet Harry in his swim trunks looking shy about something.

"Yes, dear one?" she asked.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Yes, dear one." she said, smiling slightly at his nervousness.

"Professor Snape told me I should have inherited a lot of money." he said.

That wasn't exactly a question, but it implied a question she really didn't want to answer. She tried to deflect it using the principles of simple greed.

"Do you need money?" Cynthia asked.

"No," said Harry. "I just want to know if any of my parents things are somewhere waiting for me."

Ah, this was an emotional problem. Money problems were always easier. We have math to deal with those. You couldn't add or subtract feelings.

She sat up in her hammock and lifted Harry up into her lap. Harry would later wonder how she managed to lift him up so easily. She held him there and stroked his hair. Harry had the distinct impression that she was trying to brace him for bad news.

"All your parents effects were vaporized along with the house." said Cynthia. "Technically, you do own the plot of land the house was on, but it's still a crater."

"As for money," Harry felt Cynthia stiffen, "Your parents had nothing."

"Professor Snape said-" Harry started.

"Your Grandfather," she cut in, "Thomas Potter, had a lot of money. He doted on your father. Spoiled him, in fact."

Cynthia gave a chuckle.

"It made your father a real pain in the ass until your mother straightened him out."

"What happened to my Grandfather?" Harry asked.

Cynthia didn't say anything.

"What happened to him?" Harry pressed.

"Nothing." said Cynthia finally. "He's still alive."

"What?" Harry jumped off her lap. "Why wasn't I living with him? Why was I with the Dursleys?"

"He was unable to cope when your parents died." said Cynthia. "He was very attached to your father. He was … unwilling to care for you."

"He didn't want me." said Harry.

"Well," said Cynthia, thinking. Nope, there was no way to sugar coat this. "No, he didn't."

Harry turned around and headed back out to the beach.

"Wait." Cynthia said, getting out of her hammock. She walked over to where Harry was standing in the sand.

"Harry," she said. "Thomas Potter's decision is no indication of your true worth. You are very important. After Voldemort vanished there was a huge campaign to rename Halloween to Harry Potter Day."

She reached out and gently lifted his chin up with her fingertips. "The past is behind you now, where it belongs. You can start building the future you want."

She gave him a push towards the ocean. "Now go help Marcus. Diego is about to throw him to the continental shelf."

Harry ran off, his disappointment forgotten in the face of this crisis.

Cynthia stood there a little longer watching her children gambol in the tide. She sauntered back to her hammock, wondering how long of a reprieve they would have until the past came back to haunt them.

~o!o~

"I have to know." said Harry, looking over the pile of presents that had appeared at the beach house overnight. "Is Santa Clause real?"

"Yes, he is." said Cynthia, opening the box of sugar mice Raleigh had gifted her. "But he only works in Scandinavia."

"Why?" Harry asked opening a lumpy package from the Weasleys.

"Because every other Ministry in the world forbids enchanting a sleigh to fly." answered Cynthia. "Although France will make exceptions for carriages."

Harry pulled out a yellow hand knitted sweater with a badger on the front. He would have to thank Ms. Weasley later.

"Lucky," said Marcus. "The snake she knitted on mine looks like a large intestine."

"So, all the kids really write him letters?" asked Harry, moving on to a slender package from Hermione.

"No, that's a muggle-tale." said Diego. "He visits the homes of wizarding families who leave a pint of milk on the window sill and he leaves behind fruit cake."

"The muggle Santa is way better." said Harry, flipping through the Day Planner that Hermione had given him.

"Has the same Santa been doing this the whole time?"

"Santa duties are performed by the incumbent of the office of the Minister for Magic." said Cynthia, admiring the set of sugar quills Marcus got her. "All through December, volunteers make the fruitcakes. It's kind of like their version of bonfire day."

"What does he leave behind if your naughty?" asked Harry, admiring a pocket mirror from Cynthia.

"If your naughty he offers you a cabinet job. That's a communication mirror." said Cynthia, indicating the mirror. "You can use it to contact me or anyone else who has one."

"Yeah," said Marcus, "I've got one." He held up his mirror.

"That's sweet." said Diego. "Hermione sent me a heart shaped fruit cake."

That girl was shameless.

"And thank you for the chocolate, Harry." said Diego.

~o!o~

"Good to see you again!" said Cedric, giving Harry a hug.

"Good to see you too." said Harry making his way to the dormitories. "But I wish we were still at the beach."

Holiday break was over and everyone was back at school. Harry had just made his way back to the Hufflepuff house after seeing how Draco was doing after spending the break at school.

"The hard times make the good times that much better." Cedric called after him as he made his way down the tunnel to the dormitories.

When Harry made it to his bed, he found a photo album on the covers with a crudely made bow pasted on the cover. He opened it and smiled widely at what he saw. There were dozens of pictures of his parents. His father playing quidditch. His mother reading in the library. His parents wedding. He wondered who did this, and how he could possibly thank them. Then in one of his parents wedding pictures he saw something that stopped him cold.

Sirius Black was James Potter's best man.


	8. Lingering Sentiment

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 8: Lingering Sentiment**

_"Our ability to repress unpleasant memories is a corner stone of our survival."_

* * *

><p>McGonagall walked into her classroom bright and early on the first day back from break. She set down a box of walnuts on her desk that the students were going to be turning into croquet balls. She waved her wand and instructions for the days lesson began writing on the board. She then sat down at her desk and began grading some papers while waiting for her first class of the day to arrive.<p>

It was around then she noticed something was very wrong. She looked around the room trying to pick out what was out of place.

Eventually she noticed Harry Potter sitting in a desk a full hour before class was scheduled to start. A student showing up to class early on the first day back was so irregular her brain had been ignoring his appearance out of sheer disbelief.

"Mr. Potter." she said. "I'm sorry I didn't see you. Is there something I can help you with?"

"My parents were in your house." said Harry, looking down at a photo album in front of him.

"Yes, dear." said Professor McGonagall, coming out from behind her desk. "The were Head Boy and Head Girl their final year, that was the year your father straightened out."

"Did you know them well?" he asked as she looked at the pictures he had.

"Your father was part of a group calling themselves 'The Marauders'." she pointed to a picture of his father and three other boys. "They were Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and..." the name seemed to stick in her throat. "...Sirius Black. They were the predecessors of Fred and George Weasley. There are still booby traps around the castle that they made. That vanishing step in the Astronomy tower? That's one of them."

"You must have hated them." said Harry.

"Yes." said McGonagall, smiling fondly. "In spite of your father's distaste for academia, he was always very adept at Transfiguration."

"And my mother?" asked Harry.

"Her I never had much contact with." said McGonagall. "She preferred Charms and Potions. And Arithmancy."

"If Sirius was their friend, why was he on Voldemort's side?" he asked.

She flinched at the name.

"I have no idea." she said and swept back to her desk, "If you'll excuse me, Potter. I have to finish grading these papers."

"There's one more question," Harry asked, pulling the picture of his mother and her dark haired friend he had gotten from Aunt Petunia. "This is my mother's school friend, but all I know about him is that she called him Sev. Do you know where I can find him?"

Professor McGonagall looked up at the picture and her eye twitched. Like someone who's opened their bathroom door to find a tiger lounging in their bathtub. She knew if she told him, then it was going to hit the fan.

"You can find him in the dungeon." said McGonagall. "That's Professor Severus Snape."

After Harry picked up his stuff and left, McGonagall noticed the paper she was grading was actually a copy of the Evening Prophet.

~o!o~

Professor Snape was shocked to see a student coming in early. And he was irritated that it was _Potter_.

"What do you want Potter?" sneered Snape. "If you need remedial potion lessons I can direct you to some Hufflepuff Potion NEWTs, but I am personally unavailable."

"You knew my mother." said Harry, holding up the picture of Snape and Lilly.

Snape blanched at the picture and jumped up from his seat.

"Where did you get that?" asked Snape, enraged.

"Petunia Dursley." Harry responded, taken aback by the passion of his response.

"Petunia!" Snape yelled, slamming his hand down on his desk. "That scrubbing puff-adder!" he began to pace angrily about the room.

"Can you tell me about her?" he asked, feeling like he was bating a shark.

"She was a very wonderful woman-" he broke off, then "I'm not discussing this with you! And your father was a toerag you should know!"

"I know." said Harry. "And his father didn't want me."

Snape stopped in mid fume to stare at him.

"I asked Professor McGonagall about Sirius Black, but she said she didn't know why he went to the bad guys." said Harry. "I think she does know and doesn't want to tell me, but you aren't the kind of person who'd spare my feelings."

"Flattery will get you no where Potter." said Snape settling back into his chair. He gazed at Harry appraisingly.

"Your parents went into hiding with you when they found out the Dark Lord wanted their blood." he started. "Their house was protected by something called the Fidelius Charm. The charm involves hiding a secret inside a person, the secret keeper. As long as their house was under the charm, The Dark Lord could have his fingers sewn onto your crib and he would have no idea where you were. The only way someone can know where the secret location is, is if the secret keeper tells them where it is. It was widely known that Sirius Black, your father's best friend, was the Potter's secret keeper."

"And Voldemort found them." said Harry.

"Which means." prompted Snape.

"Sirius Black told him where to find us." said Harry.

"The day after the attack." said Snape, who turned his chair and was no longer facing Harry, "Your father's other friend, Peter Pettigrew went after Black himself. He found Black in the Whitehall district and tried to duel him. Black cursed him so hard that Pettigrew and all the muggles on the same city block were killed."

"He was their best man." Harry said quietly.

"Yes." said Snape, "and your godfather."

~o!o~

"What," said Fred to George, "is _that_?"

"That," said George, "is a mystery."

Fred and George were sneaking through the castle halls in the dead of night trying to get to the kitchens. This was generally hazardous to anyone who didn't want to get caught and quartered by Mr. Filch.

The Weasley twins had an edge though. They had the Marauders Map as laid out by Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. The map had a layout of the entire castle, secret passages included. As an added bonus, the map showed you were everyone in the castle was in real time. Right now, that feature was raising more questions than answers. There was a dot walking up from the dungeons that was labeled as 'Драгoмир Деспapл'. They had never seen anyone on the map labeled in another language.

The really strange part was as they peaked down the hall mystery dot was walking down, they didn't see anyone. George aimed a stinging hex down the hall at nothing in particular. Nothing said 'ouch!'

"Who's there?" said George coming around the corner.

"And how did you turn invisible?" asked Fred behind him.

"Oh, it's you two." nothing pulled off it's invisibility cloak to reveal Marcus. "Does Filch have you patroling the corridors?"

"Bugger that for a game of soldiers." said Fred. "We just want to get to the kitchen."

"So do I." said Marcus. "The Angel Food cake at dinner was amazing. I was hoping they had leftovers."

"Oh, yeah, we're with you." said Fred. "Why does your name show up like this?" he showed Marcus the map.

"This damn thing is using my birth name." said Marcus. "I was hoping never to see it again."

"You changed your name?" asked Fred.

"Well, back in Prison - hang on." Marcus pointed to a dot on the next floor. It was labeled Sirius Black.

A look past between the Twins. The look said 'The reward money was _how much_?'

~o!o~

"So, Misters Weasley," said McGonagall looking down at the Twins lying supine on stretchers. "putting aside being out of bed after hours, you thought attacking a deranged murderer was a good idea?"

"Well," groaned Fred, "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Fortunately, Mr. Montefiore had a better idea and found Professor Snape." quipped McGonagall.

It had been an hour since the alarms had gone off, and all the students had been corralled into the great hall so the castle could be searched for Sirius Back. Dumbledore had conjured up a thousand plush sleeping bags and the students were trying to get a nights sleep under the threat of grisly murder.

Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Marcus were sleeping to the lee of the doors with their heads together and their bodies pointing out making a star shape.

"Why would he break out of Azkaban and come to Hogwarts?" asked Ron.

"I would run to Barbados." said Hermione. "And with the Dementors still guarding the castle, it's actually easier to get there."

"He's here because there's something here he wants." said Marcus. "Obviously."

"What is it?" asked Draco.

"That is rather less obvious." said Marcus. "What's also evading me is why he beat up Fred and George."

"It's because they caught him?" said Ron, uncertainly.

"He could have just killed them." said Marcus. "He didn't know I was running to get help. If I hadn't been there he could have killed Fred and George quietly and made his way to one of the houses for a murdering spree."

"Stop." said Ron, in a strained voice. Fred and George dead just didn't bear thinking about.

"I'm sorry." said Marcus. "It must be something that can secure his freedom, otherwise he would have run off to Barbados."

"Or he could just want to finish what he started." said Harry.

They were all dead quite after that.

~o!o~

Hagrid stoked the fire excitedly. This was going to be the most brilliant moment of his career. Years of independent research and one night of lucky gambling had culminated to make a dream finally come to life. He added another log to the fire and watched the hearth excitedly. His expression morphed to horror when he heard a knocking on his door.

He cracked his front door open and looked around outside, seeing no one.

"Mr. Hagrid?" he heard from around his ankles.

He looked straight down to see three first years at his door step. He recognized Harry Potter flanked by a red head and one unsettlingly calm fellow.

"What are yeh' doin' out 'ere?" he asked them. "Yeh shouldn' be out this late, not with Black on the loose."

"It's only Five in the afternoon." said the monotone one.

"Professor Sprout told me you were asking for pictures of my parents so you could make the photo album for me." said Harry. "I wanted to thank you."

"Oh," he said. "Well, that's very nice o' yeh, but I'm not really up ter entertainin' righ' now so yeh..." he looked down at both kids.

"Weren' there three o' yeh?" he asked. Harry and Ron looked around for Marcus.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Marcus from inside the house.

Hagrid wheeled around to find Marcus gazing into the hearth.

"What the bloody hell are yeh doin' in 'ere?" Hagrid blustered.

"I stole in through the window when it looked like you were hiding something." he answered still focused on what was in the fire.

"Bloody Slytherin." said Hagrid.

Ron and Harry squeezed their way in while Hagrid was distracted. Ron's eyes bulged out of his head when he saw what was in the fire.

"Is that..."

~o!o~

"...A dragon egg." said Ron.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Marcus were all gathered around Hagrid's fireplace while he gently turned the egg over.

"You keep saying that." said Hermione.

"I hardly ever get a chance to use it in a sentence." said Ron. "Dragons only lay one egg every twelve years. They don't reach birthing age until fifty. Only one in every ten dragons is female."

"So, what your saying," said Draco, "is that this is statistically the last dragon egg we will ever see hatch."

"Yes," said Ron. "We should savor it."

"How do you know so much about dragons?" asked Hermione.

"My brother Charlie works in a dragon sanctuary in Romania." Ron answered.

"That is so hot." said Hermione.

"Well," Ron started, blushing, "he did have a lot of-"

"No," Hermione stopped him. "I mean I need to sit by the window for a while." with that she got up from her seat next to the fire and went over by the far table.

They had been coming to Hagrid's cabin in secret for the past fortnight. An hour ago, while Draco was checking in, the egg had started shreiking. The egg was about to hatch. They were about to see a dragon being born.

"I love amniotes." said Marcus. "Birthing is so much cleaner for egg laying species."

"Please stop." said Harry.

"Mother once told me that the pain of child birth is equivalent to having your bottom lip pulled over the back of your head." Marcus continued.

"I will hex you." said Harry.

"And the contractions can cause- Oh look!" he said. The egg was starting to fracture.

They watched in awe as plate of eggshell came off and eventually a scaly, scrawny, leathery, beautiful baby dragon.

"Oh, Bless him. He knows his mommy." said Hagrid as the hatchling started attacking his boot.

The watched as Hagrid rocked it and fed it chickens blood mixed with brandy.

"It's really quite cute for a high crime." said Marcus. "I'm curious, Hagrid. Now that you've illegally hatched your own dragon, how are you going to keep it hidden?"

"No one likes a kill joy, Marcus." said Draco. Then the dragon bit his finger.

~o!o~

Quirinus Quirrell stared into the infernal mirror. Instead of his reflection, he saw himself holding a stone as red as blood. And his robe size was a size 5.

He had crossed every other obstacle in the way without any difficulty. McGonagall's chess set had been an easy feat. Flitwick's flying keys had been a simple task. Snape's potion bottle puzzle had him scratching his head for an hour, but that was behind him now. And here at the end of the rainbow, the leprechauns had padlocked the gold and left an insulting note.

This last trap reeked of Dumbledore's personal brand of crazy. It was a mirror that showed you your hearts desire. The Philosopher's Stone was unseen anywhere else in the room. For all Quirrell knew, the Mirror was just be a red herring and the stone was buried 50 meters beneath Professor Sprouts greenhouse.

He gave the mirror one last look, admired his size 5 robe, then turned around and left the chamber. If at first you don't succeed, try again later after imbibing vast amounts of alcohol.


	9. All Fall Down

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 9: All Fall Down**

_"First Law of Physics: What goes up must come down."_

* * *

><p>The door of the Potion lab burst open and Harry Potter ran down the hallway up to the Entrance Hall<p>

"Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" he yelled all the way up.

"I see you're excited." said Marcus from the upper landing.

"Exams are over!" said Harry, bounding up to meet him. "No more classes! No more books! No more teaches dirty looks!"

"I don't see what you're so happy about." said Marcus as they made their way to the History of Magic Corridor to meet Draco.

"School is over!" said Harry boisterously. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Because Hogwarts is the only place in Britain where underage wizards (you) can use magic with impunity." said Marcus. "During summer you aren't allowed to use magic."

"Oh," said Harry.

"And you have to go back to the Dursleys." said Marcus.

"I have to go back home," said Draco as he walked down the stairs on their left, "and explain to my parents why I'm in Gryffindor."

"Is that why you stayed at school for Christmas?" asked Harry.

"Yes, and that's why I'm going to ask McGonagall if I can stay through summer." said Draco.

"Can we do that?" asked Harry hopefully.

"No idea," said Draco. "If all else fails I can hide myself in the dungeons for three months."

"I find it hard to believe that your parents would love you less simply because someone tampered with the sorting hat." said Marcus. As he walked on, Draco stopped dead.

"What do you mean 'tampered with the sorting hat'?" said Draco.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Marcus, turning back to Draco. "The Sorting Hat has one simple function: put people in groups that will have the least amount of friction. The four houses separate people who wouldn't get along well together. People who jump the gun go into Gryffindor. The anal retentive people go into Ravenclaw. Conniving back stabbers go into Slytherin. Everyone else goes into Hufflepuff, the least abrasive of the four houses."

"Thank you." said Harry.

"You and Ron were sorted into houses where you both got in a knock-down/drag-out the first night." said Marcus. "The proof is in the failure. Someone figured out how to make the hat their puppet."

"When the hat was on my head." cut in Draco, "it started going all funny. It was talking fine and then it started skipping like a record."

"The same thing happened when it was on me." said Harry. "But why would-"

His train of thought was cut short by a desperate shrieking from two tiny lungs. Scabbers came running around the corner yelling for his life.

"Scabbers?" Marcus asked quizzically as the rat ran past them.

Then, from around the corner, came a man with wild hair and tatty clothes. He was charging full tilt toward them. As he got closer, Harry recognized him as-

"Sirius Black!" shouted Marcus and Draco as they closed ranks around Harry. They all produced their wands in time for Black to run past them and follow the rat.

"Why-?" asked a confused Draco as they watched him running down the Hall. Harry wasn't particularly concerned why Black was distracted but he was going to take advantage of it while it lasted. He brandished his wand and chased after Sirius Black.

~o!o~

Hagrid slipped a turkey into the hutch he had built behind his hut. Ripping noises could be heard inside as Norbert ripped apart his feast.

"There's a good boy." said Hagrid with a fondness that normal people use on puppies.

"Hagrid!" shouted Draco, dashing into his garden.

"Huh?" said Hagrid, swiftly slamming the hutch shut.

"It's Sirius Black!" yelled Draco. "He's in the castle! Harry's chasing him."

Without any hesitation Hagrid ran into his house and came out a second later holding a large crossbow that looked like it was designed to take out a drawbridge. He made huge strides up to the castle when he stopped and turned back.

"_Harry_ is chasin' _Black_?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Draco.

Hagrid paused another second trying to get his head around this. He shrugged and hurried up to the castle.

As Draco watched him walk off, he heard a rumbling sound coming from the hutch. Hagrid hadn't locked the door shut. Draco reached out to secure the hasp. As his fingers brushed the metal, a huge, scaly head broke through the door frame.

~o!o~

Hermione came out of her Charms class, satisfied that her last exam was behind her. As she walked into the hall, she knew something was wrong. Students were running helter-skelter down the halls. She saw Marcus running down the hall.

"Hello, Hermione." he said. "Please tell me Professor Flitwick is in there." He indicated the Charms classroom.

"No, he left to take the exams to his office." she said. "What's going on?" she asked, following Marcus as he kept running down the hall.

"Sirius Black is in the castle." he said. "He's chasing Scabbers and Harry is after him."

"Wait-what?" asked Hermione.

"It doesn't make sense to me either." said Marcus as they came out into the Entrance Hall.

From outside, they heard a girlish scream and a blood curdling roar. Draco came tearing in through the door to the grounds like his pants were on fire. Norbert the Dragon was following close behind him, trying to set his pants on fire. Draco ran up the stair towards the third floor.

Without giving it the necessary second thought, Marcus and Hermione followed them.

"Do we know anything that might incapacitate a Dragon?" Marcus asked Hermione as they took the stairs in twos.

"No." said Hermione, already running out of breath.

"Do we know anything that might even slow it down?" Marcus asked.

"No, we should get a teacher." said Hermione. "Why doesn't someone invent a spell for _that_?"

Draco ducked and rolled into an alcove forcing Norbert to make a sharp turn. His talons ground against the flagstones as he toppled into a door and reduced it to splinters. He picked himself up out of the wreckage and kept chasing Draco down the east wing.

"That's the forbidden corridor." said Marcus absently as he peered through the splintered door frame. "I've always wondered what was in there."

His curiosity came to an abrupt halt when three heads and one body came out of the chamber.

~o!o~

Quirrell couldn't get his head around how perfect this was. If having two Category 5 beasts and a wanted convict run around the castle wasn't a good distraction he didn't know what was.

The Mirror of Erised still perplexed him, but if he could somehow get it out of the chamber he could perform more tests on it away from prying eyes. He needed the whole school to be preoccupied in order to remove it from the school.

However, he figured the distraction could be just a little more distracting. Which was why he was in the girls first floor bathroom facing the sink with a funky tap.

He never planned on using this again. He had refined his technique since his school days. A giant monster, while cool, wasn't a practical utility in the murdering business. However, Slytherin's monster had one more use left.

He cleared his throat.

"_Rosshshshssh-hashshshshshsshanna_!" he hissed. The tap started to spin and and the sink slid into the floor. A huge pipe was revealed leading down into the depths of the castle.

~o!o~

Professor McGonagall came out of the teachers lounge coffee in hand. She had finished administering all the exams and now she had some matters to sort out with the board of governors. This usually fell to the head master, but Professor Dumbledore was away.

Professor Dumbledore was away at the ministry sorting out a goblin uprising. Goblin uprisings were more complicated now that the goblin nation had the power of the purse. You could say whatever you wanted about nuclear power, but gold was the real weapon of mass destruction.

In the Headmaster's absence, the Deputy Headmistress took over all his duties. And got free reign of the executive bathroom.

Fortunately, it was exam week and the students were very subdued. The teachers spent the past few weeks putting the fear of failure into them and they all knuckled down quietly for a blissful month. She didn't expect any incidents to happen between now and when Dumbledore returned in a few hours.

No such luck.

She saw down the hall, a huge scaly tail following some unseen head down into the dungeons. While she stared after it, wondering what Care of Magical Creatures had let loose this time, a rat ran between her legs and down the library corridor. Sirius Black Ran past her and followed the rat to the Library.

"Traitor!" Black screamed.

Harry Potter brushed past her in his pursuit of Black.

"Turncoat!" Harry yelled after Black.

She turned and looked down the hall as she heard a girl screaming. She saw Draco Malfoy running down the far hall. Then she saw the dragon chasing him.

"Bad Norbert!" yelled Hagrid, chasing after the dragon, huge crossbow in hand. "Bad Norbert! Sit! Heel!"

In the distance she heard barking. It sounded like dogs. Or one dog with three heads.

Professor McGonagall threw back her coffee in one gulp.

"I can see it's going to be one of those days." she said, heading after Draco.

~o!o~

The implications of the wizarding world hiding in plain sight are that there are exactly infinity other such worlds hiding where you'd never think to look. Like the chambers of a nautilus, each hidden world is having worlds hidden from it. There were societies that were as unknown to wizards as wizards were to muggles.

The best example is the royal family of Titipoo. The Titipoo line was an illustrious family of cunning, beautiful, brave individuals, who together had safeguarded the Hogwarts grounds for over a thousand years. The duty had been handed down, father to son, mother to daughter, for generations.

And no one, save for Godric Gryffindor who brought them in, knew who they were or where to find them.

Right now, The blood prince of the house of Titipoo, Perestroika Monatgue Del Bosque Verde, was standing atop Hagrids hut, preening his feathers. A rooster takes great pride in the state of his feathers.

His father, the previous prince of the house of Titipoo, Ingo Monaco Hyperion Orillas Blancas, had always told him: "Son, the clothes make the man." Or the feathers make the man.

So far, his reign over the house of Titipoo had been a quiet one. He was very eager to prove himself to his people. The other chickens in the coop still told stories about how his father had defended them against the fox incursion three winters ago. And retellings of his grandmothers triumph over the blood-sucking bug-bear were favorites. He hoped that he would be able to make his mark in the annals of his families history.

Then he felt a change in the wind. He looked up towards the Castle. He felt a stirring deep in his bones. And he knew. This time had been prophesied since the days when the coop was founded. The elders had told them there was a monster that would threaten the school and their family would be called upon to save the humans.

This was the opportunity to recover the families honor after their failure fifty years ago when the princes had all been killed off before the monster had appeared.

Perestroika Montague Del Bosque Verde jumped down from the roof and ran towards the castle, ready to do battle.

~o!o~

The three headed dog sniffed around the fourth floor annex. It had lost its quarry somewhere around here.

The ears on head No. 1 perked up as it heard a whistle. All three heads looked up to the stairs to see Marcus standing there. Marcus gave a casual wave.

The monster bounded towards him. As it made a final vault towards it's target the floor beneath it folded and it fell into a pit. Marcus heard a whining sound from the bottom.

"Remind me," said Hermione, coming out from behind a suit of armor, "to thank Fred and George for leaving that spike pit in place."

"I'll help you pick out the card." said Marcus. They headed out to find Harry. Marcus pulled out a pocket mirror.

"Mother?" he said into the reflection.

"Marcus?" the mirror answered in Cynthia's voice. "Is there something wrong?"

"Several things." said Marcus. "How would you go about containing a dragon?"

~o!o~

Percy and Cedric were running through the dungeons. They weren't running fast enough; the sound of a thousand pounds of evil was slithering closer every second.

They swerved and dodged down the twists and turns of the catacombs. In the years since they came here, they had never bothered to navigate this far down in the castle. In a few minutes, they were as lost as a polar bear in the Sonoran Desert. Eventually, they came running up to a dead end. They both pounded on the wall in the, not quite irrational yet still futile, hope that there was a secret passage in the wall that would lead them to safety.

No such luck. They heard a wet, hissing sound. Like a giant tongue would make as it darted out of a venomous, fang filled maw to taste the air. It tasted fear.

The two boys kept facing the walled. A grim certainty hung in the air. Percy felt Cedric tenderly grasp his hand.

"Percy," he said, tears heavy on his voice. "I never told you.."

"I know Cedric." said Percy, his voice mournful. "Me too."

Their grip tightened as they prepared to die. Then Percy felt something with large talons perch on his head. The thing gave a triumphant "Ehr-er-er-Ehr-er!"

From behind them, they heard the monster hit the ground with a colossal thud. In the wake of the silence it made, they risked looking at the basilisk that had been pursuing them.

The serpent lay still on the floor. It wasn't breathing and it's eyes had turned milky white. It's mouth hung open as it's head lolled to the side and it's tongue hung out comically.

The rooster jumped down off Percy's head and started strutting toward Slytherin's monster and gave it a peck.

"That's right." said a relieved Cedric. "The rooster's crow is fatal to the basilisk."

"Take cover!" they heard someone shout.

Looking up from the basilisk, they saw Draco Malfoy running towards them being pursued by a dragon. The rooster went to hide behind Percy's ankles.

"It's a dead end!" called Percy as Draco ran into his outstretched arms.

"Oh Fu-"

The Basilisk suddenly sprang up and wound itself around the dragon who gave a roar of surprise. The serpent constricted the dragon until it could no longer move. As Norbert's head flailed around, a band of iron suddenly clamped around his jaws and held them shut.

"There's that done and dusted." said Professor McGonagall, striding down the dungeon with an ill fitting Hagrid behind her. She was keeping her wand pointed at the snake that was twisting slightly as she walked along the edge of the cramped space. It occurred to Percy that she was controlling the Basilisk's corpse to restrain the dragon. He made a note to never get on her bad side.

"Tell me Hagrid." she said, having reached the head. "Which one of these monsters is yours?"

"Jus' the dragon." said a sheepish Hagrid.

As Professor McGonagall gave Hagrid a lecture about the importance of adhering to international statues, no one noticed Draco pull one of the the fangs out of the Basilisk's mouth and head out of the dungeons.

~o!o~

Harry was mad enough to spit fire. He had lost Black when he took a secret passage behind the portrait of Oswald Beamish. What, really, was the point of sentient pictures if they didn't bother to screen for riff raff?

As he ran down to the second floor, he almost ran into Professor Quirrell, who was levitating a huge mirror.

"Professor!" he cried. "Did Black run through here?"

"No." he said. "Maybe try-"

"_Kill him!"_ someone cried.

As Harry looked around for who said that, Quirrell waved his wand and tied Harry up in conjured ropes.

"What-?" he asked as his scar began to ache with a dull burn.

Quirrell drew back his wand.

"_Avada _-"

"No!" shouted Professor Sprout as she sent a curse at Quirrell. It caught Quirrell full in the head and he staggered back, his flaming turban falling off.

"Traitor!" shouted Sprout as she strode toward him, Professor Flitwick close behind.

Quirrell regained his balance and began dueling the two. As he advanced on them, Harry saw the bare back of his head. It had a contorted face on it that was looking at Harry with menace.

Quirrell issued a curse that knocked both Professors against the far wall.

"Now, myself and Mr. Potter," said Quirrell, "are going to be on our way." Harry's body flew up towards Quirrell who grabbed him around the neck and held him in a choke hold. "And anyone who tries to-AAARgh!"

His grip on Harry weakened. In his periphery, Harry could see the skin of Quirrell's arms turning charcoal black and cracking to reveal angry red skin beneath.

"What is this magic?" cried Quirrell.

"_Kill Him!_" cried the face in the back of his head. _"Never mind the-AAAAAHHHAH!"_

"AAAHAHAHAHAAH!" screamed Quirrell. He dropped Harry to the floor. Harry rolled over to see what was going on.

The two faced man was staggering around the hall flailing his arms around. The face on the back of his head had a giant fang sticking out of it, like it had been stabbed.

Draco was standing rigid behind Quirrell. His hands were shaking. He had the overall look of someone who's body has just done something their mind isn't sure was a good idea.

Quirrell's body began to shake violently, and his screams from both faces reached an unsettling pitch.

Professor Sprout was suddenly crouched over Harry. Flitwick dive tackled Draco to the ground.

"Hit the deck!" shouted Flitwick.

Then Quirrell just exploded.


	10. Fallout

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 10: Fallout**

_"Actions always have consequences. Inaction always has consequences."_

* * *

><p>Harry woke up to see a pair of smiling blue eyes.<p>

"Welcome back, Harry." said Professor Dumbledore.

"Prossefor?" he slurred. "What's going on? And why does Quirrell have two faces? And why...are we in a tent?"

Harry looked around from his place on a cot. There was a canvas ceiling over head with the same canvas walls on the sides. The tent went on for quite a long way. He could make out other cots going down the tent in rows with other people on them. Madame Pomfrey and several older students were bustling around, attending to the wounded. None of them seemed very serious.

"Unfortunately," said Dumbledore, "the Hospital wing is, shall we say, inoperable."

"What happened?" asked Harry, getting more confused by the second.

"Let's begin with Quirrell." said Dumbledore. "He was being possessed by Lord Voldemort."

Harry blanched.

"That was the other face?" asked Harry.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "The events of Halloween all those years ago reduced him to little more than a wandering soul. No more than a parasite. He was seeking that mirror to restore his body and powers."

"Is that what it did?" asked Harry. "Then why did he waste time attacking me? Why didn't he just sneak out?"

"For one, what he wanted was actually inside the mirror, magically hidden and quite beyond his grasp." said Dumbledore, without a trace of humility. "Second, Voldemort wants you dead with a burning passion."

"Because of what happened the night my parents died?" asked Harry.

"No, my dear boy." said Dumbledore. "That night, your parents were collateral damage. Voldemort was after you."

"Me?" said Harry, shocked. "But...I was a baby."

"Yes, and you blew him to Kingdom Come." said Dumbledore smiling.

"How did that happen?" asked Harry. "And when Quirrell, er, Voldemort...he touched me earlier his skin started," he gestured vaguely, "breaking?"

"Ah, I was hoping you would ask." said Dumbledore. "Your parents gave their lives to protect you that night so many years ago Harry. They could have just left and they would have been safe. Voldemort only wanted you, but they stayed and fought. That kind of sacrifice leaves a lingering presence that is as crippling to Voldemort as a tide of acid."

"So, Voldemort was defeated by...Love?" asked Harry.

"You've got it." said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

Harry stared him down, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Can I ask Cynthia what she thinks?" he asked Dumbledore, whom Harry suspected was the wrong color of crazy.

"His analysis is valid." said Cynthia, who came striding through the nearest tent flap with Diego in tow.

"Love creates a myriad of strange effects." she continued. "Deliverance from evil is one of them."

"How is that possible?" asked Harry.

"No idea." Cynthia confessed. "If we had all the answers, we'd be gods, not magicians."

She leaned down and embraced Harry.

"I'm thrilled to see you alive. I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner." she said.

As Harry hugged her back he had a thought.

"Sirius Black!" he said jumping out of bed. He wasn't stable yet, and started to fell over when Diego caught him and picked him up bridal style. The large muscles his shirt was concealing made the hold very well padded.

"He was here!" Harry continued, fighting off the sudden fatigue.

"Yes," said Cynthia. "Professor Snape was the last person we confirmed seeing him. He cornered Scabbers in the kitchens, killed him, and ran off."

They were all quiet for a moment as this sunk in.

"He went mad in prison I guess." said Harry.

"We'll know soon enough." said Cynthia. "The Dementors are searching for him in what's left of the castle."

Harry tried to sit up in Diego's arms.

"What do you mean 'what's left'?"

~o!o~

Diego carried Harry along rows of tents that had been set up on the Hogwarts grounds. As they walked by people turned to stare at him and mutter to each other.

Diego finally cleared the last row of tents and they came out onto a ridge. At the top of the embankment were Marcus, Ron, Hermione, and Draco looking the other way at something.

"Harry!" said Hermione, the first to notice Diego and him coming up. The other three got to their feet and ran up to him. Diego squatted down so Harry was at eye level with his friends.

"How ya feelin' mate?" asked Ron.

"I've been better." said Harry. He looked for Draco, who had been right there when Quirrelldemort exploded. "Are you ok?" he asked Draco.

"I was fine." said Draco. "Flitwick shielded me from the blast. You were already pretty worn out by the time you-know-who exploded."

"How about Flitwick and Sprout?" Harry asked.

"They're sleeping it off now." said Marcus, taking Harry's hand in an unusual gesture of affection.

"Remind me to send them a fruit basket." said Harry, giving the hand a squeeze.

"One that can be seen from space." said Marcus.

"How much damage?" Harry asked.

At that, they all moved aside so Diego could go up the embankment. When they reached the top of the ridge they had a panoramic view of the Hogwarts Castle.

Plumes of smoke came out of what few windows that were left. None of the towers were left standing. The great hall looked like a shattered eggshell.

"How did this happen?" asked Harry, on the verge of tears. This had been the only place that ever felt like home. And now...

"The castle had three monsters wreaking havoc inside simultaneously." said Cynthia, as she appeared at Diego's side. "That's a lot to ask of any building, let alone a thousand year old castle held together by spells and honest intentions. The straw that broke the camel's back was the dark wizard going supernova on a weight bearing floor. The good news is that there were no casualties."

"Hogwarts is destroyed." said Ron, dejectedly. "I always wanted to come here and now -"

"Hogwarts is not destroyed." said Cynthia, moving to stand between the students and the ruins. "Hogwarts isn't just a castle, grounds, dungeons, and a quidditch pitch, that's what Hogwarts needs. Hogwarts is experienced wizards and witches passing along their knowledge to the next generation of extraordinary sorcerers. And whether they're doing it in an ancient castle or at the bottom of an ocean or in an old shack, the principle remains the same."

"So, well all be coming back next year?" said Hermione, hopefully.

"My dear," said Cynthia, reaching out fondly to Hermione, "We will have classes on September first if it means I have to line up every witch and wizard in Britain to shout '_repairo'_."

~o!o~

Sirius Black jolted awake. He had been sleeping off his disappointment at not getting Scabbers alive. He got a lot of solace about having committed the crime he had been imprisoned for, but it somehow fell short of being able to prove one's innocence.

He looked up into the wizened face of Thomas Potter.

"Thought I'd find you here, Black." said Thomas.

Black didn't try to protect himself, though he knew Thomas probably wanted to curse him until he was an uninteresting scorch mark. He grabbed at the hem of Thomas's robe and moved right into begging.

"You have to believe me, Thomas." said Black, very close to tears. "I would never betray Lily and James. I wasn't the one who told Voldemort where they were."

"I know you weren't." said Thomas.

"It was Peter Pettigrew!" said Black.

"It was Cynthia Montefiore." said Thomas.

They both stared at each other blankly for a second.

"What _are _you talking about?" asked Thomas.

"What are _you _talking about?" asked Black.

"Never mind, you can explain later." said Thomas. "We have to get out of here before the Dementors come this way. Then you can help me. Cynthia's up to something. And when she's done we're going to be wishing for the days when You-know-who was our biggest problem."


	11. Resolve

****Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World****

**Chapter 11: Resolve**

_"A decision is a force as strong as gravity."_

* * *

><p>Cynthia stared out her office window in London. The sun had set and the lights were going on all over Britain. Streetlights and houses formed a glistening web below her.<p>

She reflected on the success of her experiment. The data she had collected was irrefutable proof of all she had been hoping for. Like all good scientists, she enjoyed prodding variables into place just to see what happens, but, like all good business owners she loved seeing what happened turn in her favor.

The idea had been to put four students in the wrong houses and see how they adapted to the situation. Draco had become a better person when his housemates showed him kindness. Hermione had become more brazen when she was surrounded by studious people. Harry was basked in the healing of unconditional acceptance. Ron, having to always fight with his housemates, had sharpened his cunning and patience. The most surprising result was that they all bonded to each other. Forming a fifth house, so to speak.

If she knew that Voldemort was on premises, she would have stacked the deck differently. She'd have put Harry, Hermione, and Ron safely in Gryffindor, where dwell the people no one messes with, and left Draco to Slytherin. That would have certainly kept Harry out of harms way.

As it happened, no one died and she had what she needed.

"Chairwoman Montefiore?" asked Schubert Graham from behind her. She had summoned him, her best research librarian, to find the question to which she now had the answer.

"Good evening, Schubert." she said, still looking out the window. "I need you to assemble as many teams of as many people as you like and go to the five libraries for me."

"Which five libraries?" he asked her, confused at the odd request. Gathering research wasn't really an expedition after all.

"_The_ five libraries, Schubert." she said.

Schubert had to sit down at this. There were libraries of magical knowledge all over the world. Hogwarts had one, the Ministry of Magic had one, and there were even private collectors. But there were some libraries that made all the others look like magazine racks. The Tephnut Library of Egypt, hidden safely under the Great Pyramids of Giza, had been around since the days when the wheel was cutting edge technology. The Jakarta Library of India, that had scrolls as big around as elephants. The Xia Gong library of China, tucked away in the highest mountains of the most remote provinces. The Soroya Library in Norway, the only library ever built into a glacier. The Fairfield Community Library of Idaho, the youngest of the five.

"You understand, Chairwoman," he began, "Even the smallest of the five would take months to examine adequately."

"Then you'd better leave quickly." she said, still facing the window. "I will take care of your living expenses while you are working."

"The Ministries that guard the Xia Gong and Tephnut are not always friendly to outsiders." he said.

"As of this afternoon, they are willing to extend the hand of friendship. At the cost of six thousand galleons each." she said.

"What are we looking for?" he asked, now excited.

Now she turned her chair around to face him.

"We are looking for all the information you can find related to the soul." she said.

His excitement turned to horror. The word 'Horcrux' danced across his mind.

"I want to know how it influences a persons magic, what forces can damage it, How it can be repaired, and anything that can influence the soul's dynamics." she added.

"And if we find anything...Dark?" he asked.

She looked at him squarely.

"I need all the information I can get." she said in stern tones. "If I was unable to complete the project from a lack of data, then I would be most upset with the people who failed me."

The inflection on the word 'upset' was more horrible than the threat of torture.

Schubert bustled out of the room to begin preparations. He passed a man on the way in with spectacles and long black hair secured in a pony tail.

"Good evening, Dr. Laurel." she said, getting up from her desk. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

"No problem." he said casually. He didn't bother to point out that with what she was paying him, he'd swim across the ocean if she yelled from the beach on the other side.

"You remember Thomas Potter." she said, walking over to a cabinet on the side wall.

"Yes, ma'am." he responded. "I worked with Thomas Potter when he was still employed here. He was the best microbiologist we ever had."

"He was the best until you came along." said Cynthia as she opened the cabinet door and grabbed a small, leather bound journal from the interior. "Do you recall his final project?"

"Yes, ma'am." he said. "He was looking at the structure of the cell to find the source of our magic."

"The source of all magic." she corrected, advancing on him. "His notes indicate he found the organelle of the cell that produces magic. The same organelle can be found in wizard cells and phoenix cells alike. He named it the Belfast Apparatus after his late wife."

"He never mentioned this to any of us." he said shocked.

"He was preoccupied. There was a war going on." said Cynthia. "And now that he's gone I need you to carry on his research." she handed him the journal. "These are all the notes he made about his research."

Dr. Laurel looked doubtfully at the tiny tome.

"It's not much to go on." he said dubiously.

Cynthia flicked the cover with her fingertips. The book grew to the size of a tombstone and Dr. Laurel was crushed underneath it.

"That's a bit more to go on." he said, struggling to get out.

Cynthia crouched down next to him.

"We have technology we didn't have ten years ago and we can now see the parts of the cell more clearly." Cynthia said. "I want you to find the Belfast Apparatus and catalog it's functions and attributes. After we have a comprehensive understanding of it, we can begin splicing it into test subjects."

"What test subjects?" asked Dr. Laurel, finally shoving the book off him.

"Something small to start with." said Cynthia. "Then we'll work our way up."

~o!o~

Harry looked down at the city of New York from Cynthia's penthouse. Following his recovery she had insisted that he be taken somewhere safe until the dust settled.

Wizarding Britain was in an uproar. Everyone had been living in the blissful ignorance that Voldemort was dead. Now they had to deal with him being not dead and not alive simultaneously. People were afraid that they might end up possessed as well.

Draco was also enjoying some celebrity, having stabbed evil in the face. There was no one left in Gryffindor that didn't accept him as one of their own. Fred and George had started calling him 'The Boy Who Killed'.

"What are you thinking about?" said Diego as he came to stand beside Harry. "I could smell the wires burning all the way from Raleigh's room."

Harry gave a half smile and playfully shoved Diego, who swayed slightly for Harry's benefit.

"When do I have to go back?" asked Harry. If he knew he could make the most of the time he had left with them.

"Hogwarts starts its next term September 1st." said Diego. "You have plenty of time to get your head nice and empty."

"I mean, when do I have to go back to the Dursleys?" Harry asked.

Diego didn't answer immediately and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Cynthia and Dumbledore discussed it. She asked that you stay with us and he agreed that it would be for the best." Diego said. "If you want to, you can be part of our family."

Harry turned to him in elation.

"Really?" Harry asked.

"No, not really." confessed Diego. "What really happened was Cynthia faced down Dumbledore and The Minister for Magic at the same time and told them you were coming to live with us and if they had any dissenting opinions she was prepared to duel them for their lives."

"I can really stay with you?" asked a relieved Harry.

"Yes, if you wish." said Diego.

Without any hesitation, Harry hugged him around the waist.

"Yes." he said into Diego's shirt.

Diego returned his hug. Eventually, he took Harry to see his new bedroom. Harry was thrilled by how the ceiling in no way resembled the bottom of a staircase.

* * *

><p>End Book 1 of the Guild Saga<p> 


	12. Shopping

**Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat**

The second year of Hogwarts is approaching for the band of misfits that were wrongfully sorted. Hermione Granger is about to voyage into chilling waters. Even if she's out of her depths, she can get by with the help of her friends.

**Chapter 1: Shopping**

_"People who say 'Money can't buy happiness' don't know where to shop."_

* * *

><p>Narcissa Malfoy was in a hysterical state.<p>

"Mrs. Malfoy," said a frustrated Cynthia, "I am quite capable of hearing your request without you groveling."

Narcissa had come to Cynthia Montefiore's London office to ask for her help saving her son.

"You must help him!" cried Narcissa, still resolutely anchored to the hem of Cynthia's dress. "Ever since the world found out that The Dark Lord is still with us, his supporters have been coming out of the wood work, gathering in secret, dreaming of the glory he once promised us."

This was true enough. Ever since Voldemort's botched resurrection at Hogwarts last spring, news of his continued existence was feeding the fires of pureblood supremacy in those that lacked basic human compassion. In the months passed there had been a disturbing rise in hate crimes against muggles and muggle-borns.

"It is no secret," continued the distraught Narcissa, "That he was defeated when my Draco … assaulted him."

"Draco stabbed him in the face with a Basilisk fang." clarified Cynthia. "Most people agree that the act was the apotheosis of awesome."

"But that has made Draco enemies!" wailed Narcissa. "The supporters of the Dark Lord have targeted him as a traitor to the Dark Lord! The other day they threw a chimaera into our garden."

"Really?" asked Cynthia, shocked. "How did you get rid of that?"

"We didn't." sobbed Narcissa. "It's sleeping in my apaganthus."

"Oh," said Cynthia.

"You must save Draco!" Narcissa continued. "During the war you were the only one who could shelter victims of the Dark Lord. Please save my son." she produced a bag from the recesses of her robes and thrust it into Cynthia's hands.

"My sister and husband were each entrusted with an artifact by the Dark Lord. I stole them from the Gringotts vaults. Please, use them for your cause against the Dark Lord. Take them as payment to protect my boy."

"Mrs. Malfoy," said Cynthia as she set the bag on her desk. "You don't have to bribe me to shelter Draco I would..."

She broke off as the bag started hopping around her desk. Narcissa cowered behind Cynthia as Cynthia drew her wand. Eventually, the bag fell over and a small gold cup with a badger embossed on it rolled out.

"Voldemort gave you a hopping cup?" asked an apprehensive Cynthia.'

"It might have been the Diary that was moving." said Narcissa.

"Narcissa," said Cynthia, keeping her eyes trained on the bag. "You go home and get Draco packed for travel. I'll be along directly. Just as soon as I find a trunk that's thick enough to keep these nasty things contained."

~o!o~

Hermione Granger looked over the letters she had gotten from her friends over the summer. She had dedicated an entire wall of her room to their letters. Ron had written to her, saying that his brother Charlie had come to visit from Romania and he was very interested in hearing stories about Norbert. Harry told her about living with the Montefiore family. Cynthia insisted that he practiced magic and honed his math skills during summer break. She said that both fields had limitless applications, so Harry spent an hour each day studying algebra and in the evenings Cynthia would teach him some new spells. Marcus sent an occasional letter with Harry telling embarrassing stories about how Raleigh, Marcus's younger brother, would con Harry into playing with him. Apparently Harry made a very terrifying tickle monster.

Draco's letters were few and far between. He told troubling stories about being threatened by pureblood supremacists and having various curses sent to his home by mail. It was after that Hermione developed an enduring love for muggle post, that could only carry bills.

Her most recent letter was from Marcus, offering her to take her to Diagon Alley for school supplies. When she said 'yes', he told her that Diego, Marcus's older brother, would come to collect her.

In preparation for Diego's arrival she had slept with curlers in her hair, gotten a new blouse, borrowed her mothers makeup, and had spent the past hour moving as little as possible to avoid making a crease anywhere.

Diego was far older than her, but she was not going to let the dream that was Diego Montefiore die. He stood taller than most with a build of lean muscle that his suit couldn't quite conceal. He had dark wavy hair and soft blue eyes that you could get lost in. She had at one time. It was the best trip ever. He had a gentle countenance that was strong and reassuring.

She looked over to the picture she kept on her desk. It was of Herself, Draco, Harry, Ron, and Marcus at the end of last year. Harry was still weak from the fight, so Diego was holding him. Behind them was the ruins of Hogwarts. The castle had been reduced to rubble by an exploding dark wizard a few hours before the picture was taken.

In spite of all the damage, Cynthia had promised that class would resume on September 1st.

Hermione heard the doorbell ring. She ran downstairs at a fast, but graceful pace. She stopped in front of the door, made sure her clothes were smoothed down, checked her face in the mirror, and then opened the door.

She was greeted by a shock of red hair.

"Hi Hermione." said Ron, smiling. "You look great." he said as he took in her outfit.

"Hello Ron." she said lackadaisically.

"Hello Hermione." said an older balding man who, judging from the red hair, must have been Ron's father. "Cynthia had an emergency at the ministry and she didn't know how long it would take. She asked us to come get you."

"Of course she did." said Hermione. "Of course."

The two Weasleys were a bit confused by her reaction. She reminded herself it wasn't their fault they weren't Diego and brightened up.

"Thank you so much for doing this." she said. "I hope this isn't an inconvenience."

"No, not at all." said Ron's father. "The car's just this way." he pointed down the street.

"You parked in the ha-ha?" Hermione asked in fear for their lives.

"Is that wrong?" asked Ron.

~o!o~

They arrived at the Flourish and Blotts to see a huge crowd spilling out onto the street.

"What's going on here?" asked Fred.

"Look," said Ginny pointing to a sign by the door.

The sign read "Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his Autobiography 'Magical Me' Today".

"Hey, mum." said George. "Your boyfriend is here."

Mrs. Weasley gave him a full strength glare and he hid behind his twin.

Hermione had spent the day with the Weasleys buying school supplies. The list was mercifully short this year. She'd taken a while getting her robes refitted, but there wasn't much else to get.

This was Ginny Weasley's first year at Hogwarts. She was lugging around a cauldron full of supplies and was happy to do so. They had gotten most of her supplies at a second hand store. Some of her effects she would have to share with her older brothers.

The Flourish and Blotts was their last stop for the day. They needed an entire set of books by the same Gilderoy Lockhart. She hoped she had enough. Cynthia had given the Weasley family money for her supplies. She felt distinctly guilty getting a hand out while they carefully rationed money between five children.

"Dear," said Mr. Weasley, "Why don't I take the bags we have to the car while you finish here?" he asked his wife.

"Yes dear," said Mrs. Weasley, "That's a good idea."

They squeezed their way into the book shop, unencumbered by their shopping. They saw, through gaps in the crowd, a blond wizard in ornate pink robes signing books. There was a photographer snapping pictures from every angle he could fit in. The air was full of purple smoke from taking so many pictures.

"Stand aside, stand aside." the photographer said. "This is for the Daily Prophet."

As he pushed part of the crowd back, the people in front of her knocked Hermione over. She was on the ground, unable to prop herself up, and people were stepping on her.

She cried out for help and the crowd parted like a bomb had gone off. She was suddenly flying through the air and landed on top of one of the bookshelves.

"Hey there," said Marcus, sitting on the shelf across the isle. "You get trampled here often?"

"Nice to see you, too." said Hermione, wincing as she stretched out. She was going to have some bruises.

"Hey, Hermione." said Harry from his seat next to Marcus.

Marcus Montefiore and Harry Potter were two of her best friends. Harry was smiling warmly at her but Marcus's face remained blank. Hermione knew he was glad to see her. He just wasn't big on facial expressions. She had never so much as seen him raise an eyebrow.

"Are you alright?" Marcus asked.

"No," said Hermione, examining a boot mark on her arm, "but I'll live. How long have you two been up here."

"We pulled out of the danger zone about half an hour ago." said Harry, eying the crowds below. A few women standing closer to Lockhart were hyperventilating.

At this point, Gilderoy Lockhart looked up and noticed the three children taking shelter atop the book cases.

"Good lord," he said. "It's Harry Potter."

The crowd went quiet and turned to see where he was looking. Lockhart went over to their bookshelves and the crowd moved away from him like an ebbing tide. Marcus, Harry, and Hermione, who knew a good opportunity when they saw one, jumped down into the empty space.

Lockhart pulled Harry toward the camera man who began taking pictures with renewed fervor.

"Let's sneak away while they're distracted." said Marcus, pulling her towards the exit.

"What about Harry?" Hermione asked.

"He'll be fine. He's Harry Potter." said Marcus. There was a lot of truth to that statement. He was the treasure of the wizarding world.

They managed to pull together the books they needed, and she got a copy of 'Written Incantation and Applications'.

"Oh, there you are Hermione." said a flustered Mrs. Weasley who emerged from the crowd. "If I knew I was going on safari I would have brought a machete to cut through the undergrowth. Goodness, Lockhart's books are expensive."

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," said Marcus, who was carrying three sets of books, one for himself, one for Harry, and the other one Hermione had no clue about. "Mother said to thank you for collecting Hermione."

"No problem, dear." said Mrs. Weasley.

"She said not to bother buying Lockhart's books." said Marcus. "She's getting a set for Draco that your children can use when they need them. Ron can share with me."

"Oh, that's a relief." said Mrs. Weasley.

"Is Harry here?" asked Ron, squeezing through the crowd.

"He's being fawned over." said Marcus.

"Poor sod." said Ron. "I'm so glad I'm unpopular."

"As unpopular as it is possible to be." agreed Marcus.

"And getting more repulsive every day." added Ron.

"Oh, Ron. Really." said Mrs. Weasley.

"Let's get out of here." said Marcus. "Before one of us gets trampled again."

Ron, Marcus, and Hermione broke out of the crowd and stepped into the Diagon Alley. The sunlight had never looked more beautiful.

"Why is Cynthia buying Draco's books?" asked Hermione. Cynthia had always footed the bill for Hermione's and Harry's supplies, but that was because they had no wizarding family, and by extension, no wizarding money.

"Draco is living with us now." said Marcus. "Here they come now." he pointed down the street.

The pale blond boy was in fact walking down the street, looking oddly vacant. Walking next to him, at arms length, was Cynthia Montefiore, Marcus's mother.

Cynthia was everything Hermione hoped to be one day. She was a muggle-born witch who built her own company, turned it into multiple companies, and made her own fortune. Cynthia had a gentle face that put you at ease. She had an austere appearance. Her hair was kept severely short and subdued onto her scalp. She never wore the gaudy flowing robes popular among wizards, preferring power suits and simple dresses, only ever in black, white, and shades of gray. She didn't indulge in ornaments. She didn't wear so much as an earing. She had the style of a bullet train.

Hermione ran up to greet her. As she approached,Cynthia held out a hand to stop her. Hermione slowed down, wondering what was wrong. Then a curse hit Draco and knocked him to the ground burning with black fire.

"No!" yelled Hermione running toward him. Cynthia caught her and held her back.

"It's all right." said Cynthia. "It is just an illusion."

"Hi Hermione." Hermione heard Draco's voice from somewhere behind her. She turned around and saw nothing.

"Draco?" she asked.

"Over here." said an empty patch of air.

"Draco is concealed under our invisibility cloak." said Cynthia to Hermione, and Ron who had run over to see why his friend was on fire. "After he killed Quirrell, he's been targeted by some unsavory individuals."

The fire had gone out and what Hermione thought was Draco. The unburnt portions still resembled Draco, but in the places the fire had eaten away the insides were revealed to be wooden.

"I've been making facsimiles of Draco." explained Cynthia. "They've been very useful at drawing fire."

Hermione got her breath back, knowing that the danger was past. As a booming voice emanated from the Flourish and Blotts they all turned towards the shop.

"It pleases me to announce," came the voice of Lockhart. "That Mr. Potter will not only be getting my autobiography and full set of books free of charge. But he will also be getting me personally. I have accepted the position of teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I will be starting on September 1st."

There was thunderous applause from the audience. Lockhart continued preening.

"It is my duty as a professional to pass on my knowledge to the next generation, so that future victims of the dark arts can be saved." he finished.

After a while, the crowed let Harry through. He had his arms full of books.

"I see you made a new friend." said Marcus.

"Yep," said Harry. "We got along like a house on fire. I'm just going to hand these off Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's been standing in line for two hours."

As Harry walked off, Hermione turned to question Cynthia.

"Will the Castle be rebuilt in time for school?" asked Hermione.

"No, dear one." said Cynthia. "The damage was extensive and complex. Classes will be held at a second location. Oh, look." she said pointing to the sign above them before Hermione could ask where the other location was. On the B of Flourish and Blotts was a butterfly. It was the size of a dinner plate with iridescent red wings. They shimmered like a hundred tiny plates of stained glass.

"That's pretty." said Cynthia. "I don't recognize it."

"I don't either." said Hermione, hypnotized by its beauty.

"Maybe it's new." said Cynthia. "Maybe we're the first people to see a new creature."

The butterfly flapped away.


	13. Embarkation

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 2: Embarkation**

_"The sea is a path that leads many places."_

* * *

><p>Hermione was reading the Telegraph as she waited outside Kings Cross Station. The weather section had an article about a new species of butterfly being found in mass numbers all over Cornwall. She was waiting outside the station rather than going directly to the Hogwarts Express so she could meet her friends at the gate. More specifically, Diego might be coming to see off his brothers. She adjusted her hair ribbon that was keeping down her mass of curls.<p>

"Hey Hermione." said Ron, coming up from the parking lot. He looked her over.

"Not that you don't look great, but why are you all dressed up?" he asked. "You're just going to have to change into your robes in a few hours."

"Oh, no reason." she tried to sound casual. She waved to the other Weasleys as they came up the walk.

"Hi Hermione." said Ginny, bounding up to her. "We got an owl from Marcus. Cynthia is taking them to Hogwarts personally. So you can share a compartment with us."

"Oh, that's nice of you." said Hermione, ripping the ribbon out of her hair.

~o!o~

"Where are we going?" said Fred as he looked out the window. Hermione couldn't tell for sure, having only made the trip once, but she assumed they were taking a different route.

"Cynthia said we'd be having class at a different location." said Hermione as she watched a field of hops pass by.

"How different?" asked George. "Hogwarts is in Scotland. We've been heading West since we left London three hours ago."

"Well," Hermione reasoned. "It would have to be somewhere secluded where muggles couldn't see us performing magic. It would also have to be somewhere that outsiders couldn't just wander in. Finally, it would have to be able to keep dangerous things inside." she eyed Fred and George.

"Are you insinuating we are a force of destruction?" asked Fred.

"'Cause flattery will get you nowhere." said George.

"If you want a date, just ask directly." said Fred.

"Alright." said Hermione. Fred and George's faces suddenly went serious. "Hey, Ron." she said. "What's the date?"

"September first, 1992." Ron answered, laughing as Fred and George's faces fell even further.

"Seriously, though." said Ron. "They found a place like that in Wales?"

"I guess..." she was distracted. The fields gave way to shore line. She could see a port in the distance.

"We're in Falmouth." she said "I remember this port from when my parents took me on a cruise."

The train continued along the shore and eventually the train actually went onto a dock. Hermione was afraid, for one terrible moment, that the train was going to go off the end of the pier. Before she could begin to panic, the train came to a sudden halt without jarring anything inside their compartment.

"Hello Students!" they heard Dumbledore's voice coming from nowhere. Hermione guessed all the other students on the train must be hearing him as well, his voice carried to them by magic like an intercom.

"I must ask you to gather your trunks and exit the train. Carts will be provided for people with more cumbersome luggage." Dumbledore announced. "There are five ramps going up to the ship. One for the first years, and one for each of the four houses. They are all clearly labeled. Please proceed to the relevant ramp. Older students, you will be lead to your houses before we all convene at the Great Hall. Welcome back."

Without delay, the Weasleys and Hermione gathered their trunks. Hermione had an easier time of it because her trunk had an undetectable extension charm. It held as much as a small basement, but was the size of a small suit case.

As Hermione stepped out of the train she had a better view of the cruise ship. To say it was big was putting it mildly. It looked like some ambitious person had wondered to herself what a good idea it would be if the empire state building could float. On the prow was painted 'HMS Hogwarts'. Along the side were the five promised ramps, one was covered by a black and white awning for the first years, the other four were decorated in the Hogwarts houses colors. Hermione headed off toward the Ravenclaw's bronze and blue ramp. Ron made it most of the way with her and veered off at the last minute to the Slytherin's green and silver ramp.

"See you later." he said forlornly. The Slytherins and Ron where not font of each other. Ron's family were considered blood traitors for their tolerance of muggles. Ron had one friend in the Slytherin house, Marcus, but right now he was on his own.

Hermione marched up the ramp. Ahead of her, Penelope Clearwater lost an uphill battle against gravity. Her cart loaded with her trunk, owl cage, purse, and broomstick started pushing her back down the ramp. Hermione ran up to her and helped her push the cart back up the ramp.

"Thanks Hermione." grunted Penelope. "If I had an ounce of sense I would have charmed them to float when I was at the bottom of the ramp."

The Ravenclaw House was a block of suites on the starboard side of the ship. The block had been retrofitted so all the suites were connected to a common area, like their old common room. The common area had a lounge, a small kitchen, a few tables set up, and it had a large message board on one wall. There was only one way in or out of the Ravenclaw section. It was a large steel door that Hermione had always associated with an elevator. Unlike the previous Ravenclaw house, that demanded you answer a riddle before the door opened, this door recognized you. If you put your hand flat on the door it would react to your touch. If you were a Ravenclaw, it would let you in. If you weren't, a teacher would be summoned.

"Alright everyone." said Professor Flitwick once they had put their luggage in their assigned suites and were all gathered in the common area. "Please, follow me to the Great Hall. This ship isn't as confusing as the castle was, but we still don't want anyone getting lost."

They followed him down several Hallways and up a grand staircase. Then entered the Great Hall through a smaller set of double doors that came out near the Ravenclaw table.

The Great Hall had multiple exits around the perimeter. Hermione thought for a moment that they had enchanted the ceiling to look like the sky. Then she saw that the ceiling really was glass.

They took their seats at the long table of Ravenclaw. The Slytherins had arrived already. Hermione could see Ron sitting next to Marcus. She looked over to the Hufflepuff table and found Harry. Farther over in Gryffindor, Draco was sitting next to the twins. Cynthia was sitting at the staff table. Hermione couldn't think why they had had to come here separately.

The first years came in after all the houses were seated. They came up and sat under the sorting hat and were allocated into their new houses. Ravenclaw got some bright new faces. One of them, a blond with a faraway look and radish earrings, was engaging Padma Patil in a discussion of Nargle migrations.

After everyone had been sorted, the plates in front of them were filled with food.

"Isn't this amazing." said Grace Augustine, a Ravenclaw second year. "We're actually going to be taking class on a cruise ship! When winter comes to Britain we can shove off to Jamaica."

"Never Jamaica." said Hermione. "If we pass within ten miles of that island we'll come out with a drug addiction."

"Barbados then." said Grace. "It's still awesome."

When the food disappeared, Dumbledore stood up to give the welcome speech.

"To our new students: Welcome. To our old students: Welcome back." he began. "Some of you might have noticed that Hogwarts is now floating. Despite our best efforts, the Hogwarts castle has not yet been reconstructed.

"The Guild, headed by Chairwoman Montefiore," he indicated Cynthia, who gave a small nod, "have volunteered use of one of their cruise ships."

"'One of their cruise ships'?" said Grace. "How much stuff does Marcus's mom _have_?"

The answer, of course, was 'as much as she wants'.

"Classes will proceed as they usually do." Dumbledore continued. "Quidditch will be suspended this year, until we can figure out how to make a floating bludger."

There was a collective groan.

"However, Professor Kettleburn from the care of magical creatures department is organizing a shark riding league. Since we are now moving into the middle of the ocean, there are some additional safety concerns we have to address. Jumping overboard or throwing someone else over the side is frowned upon. And if anyone," he turned to face the Weasley twins, "puts a hole in the hull the consequences will be as terrible as it is within my considerable power to make them."

"Next, we have some staff changes. Mr. Filch has retired after a buttress fell on him last year."

The hall erupted in cheers.

"He will be replaced by a three woman team," he indicated three witches that were standing in the corner of the hall. They all curtsied. "Emma, Emma, and Emma."

There was a confused applause of greeting.

"Rubeus Hagrid will be continuing his duties as the grounds keeper of the Hogwarts grounds, and will not be joining us on this cruise."

The Slytherins and some of the Ravenclaws applauded. Hermione glared nonspecifically at her housemates.

"Finally, We are joined this year by Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The Hall's female inhabitants jumped up and applauded and wolf whistled and screamed hysterically. Hermione thought it was undignified, but she did have to admit that, in the absence of a murderous crowd, he was dreamy.

"Schedules will be delivered at breakfast tomorrow along with a map of the ship. I wish you all a good night."

And they were dismissed.

~o!o~

Hermione looked out on the Atlantic Ocean from the balcony of her suite. They could see the lights of Britain faintly in the distance. The ship had been underway since the feast had started and muggle civilization was far away. Some students bunking on the port side (probably the Gryffindors) were taking advantage of the remote location by firing off incendiary charms into the sky.

"It's gonna be hard to get used to." said Grace as she came out onto the balcony. "All that water." All the suites were two to a room. Grace and Hermione were bunking together. They had already decided on closet space allocation and who got the bed closest to the door. The major sources of conflict had been resolved.

"We'll probably get bored with it." said Hermione, indicating the scenery. "It doesn't change much."

"It gets pretty entertaining when a storm comes up." joked Grace.

While they laughed together, something beneath the waves noticed the magic pulsing off the ship. It thought to itself 'Well, what have we here?'


	14. What We Think We Know

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 3: What We Think We Know**

_"You're just going to have to unlearn some of what you know."_

* * *

><p>"The moment of truth." said Harry.<p>

"The defining moment." said Marcus.

"Our destiny manifest." said Draco.

"So, what's on your schedule?" asked Ron.

The five of them were gathered at the end of the Hufflepuff table closest to the staff table. Marcus and Ron had gotten into the habit of sitting at Harry's table given their house's unfriendly environment. Draco and Hermione had no issue with their houses, but they preferred each other's company. The Hufflepuff house was perfectly happy to host a few guests.

They had just been given their schedules for the first half of term. They were coordinating when they're paths were going to cross to maximize the time they could spend goofing off or combating evil, whatever was going on that day.

"We have History of Magic after lunch." said Harry to Draco.

"We have a free period mid-morning." Draco told Ron and Marcus.

"I have Defense Against The Dark Arts with Slytherin first thing in the morning." said Hermione.

"I will enjoy that class." said Marcus.

"Really?" asked Ron.

"Of course," said Marcus. "It will be a refreshing change to have all the girls in class drooling over someone besides me."

"More importantly," said Hermione trying to look stern while unsuccessfully suppressing a smile, "we can benefit from his wealth of knowledge."

"His exploits are extensive." agreed Marcus. "He managed to successfully cure a man of Lyncanthropy using a variation of the Homorphus charm. Only a handful of people in the world can do that."

"That's amazing." said Draco. "Exactly what was it he did?"

"He zapped a werewolf back to being human." said Marcus.

"I wonder if I can use that charm on Justin Finch-Fletchley." said Harry.

"He's a werewolf?" asked a startled Hermione. All the heads nearby turned to listen in.

"No." said Harry quickly. "But he snores so loudly, I swear he's howling at the moon."

"You think your room mate's bad?" asked Marcus. "Ron snores like a roaring lion. I've had to put silencing charms around his bed."

"You're no better." said Ron, shoving him playfully. "You talk in your sleep."

"That's not as bad as snoring." said Hermione.

"He speaks Russian when he sleeps." Ron added.

"That's way worse than snoring." said Harry, laughing.

"Russian is a very rich and vibrant language." said Hermione. "It's the language of Tolstoy and the wizard Rasputin."

"Can't be as bad as Neville Longbottom." said Draco. "When he isn't snoring he's thrashing in his bed."

"Isn't he that kid that's afraid of his own shadow." said Ron.

"He is not." said Draco, defensively. "He's just … unsure of himself."

"Grace Augustine keeps her side of the room clean, gives me equal space in the closet, and does not hog the bathroom." said Hermione.

"The idea of the game was to complain about our roommates." said Marcus.

"You loose Hermione." said Ron.

"At least the people in my house aren't trying to lynch me." Hermione shot back.

They all had a laugh at this.

"The sad thing is," said Marcus, pulling out a copy of the Daily Prophet, "those nutjobs are part of a larger community." He handed the article to Hermione.

**GERMAN WIZARD SUPREMACISTS ORGANIZE**

Helmut Rohr, a prominent German

warlock has started a society of pure-

blood wizards to support what he calls

'A Reform of Wizarding Integrity'. The

main objectives of his organization,

says their manifesto, are the institu-

tion of ordinances that will limit ac-

cess to the knowledge of magic to

'worthy individuals' and to instan-

tiate departments within the minis-

try that will actively control the

muggle governments and their

citizenry. The German Minister

for Magic was...

"Oh, for Heaven's sake." said Hermione, not bothering to read any more. She felt distinctly nauseous.

"It was Voldemort's reappearance last year." said Marcus. "The Wizard Supremacists have had their hopes rekindled. They were waiting for the wizard that would lead them out of hiding and to world domination."

"Then we better get to Defense Against The Dark Arts." said Ron, getting up. "When the nutjobs do rise up I wanna be able to put them back down."

~o!o~

"Good morning, class." said Professor Lockhart to the joint class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. "I am Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class. Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League. Five time winner of _Witch Weekly's _Most Charming Smile Award."

He handed a stack of lavender parchment to Pansy Parkinson in the front row.

"Pass those out, please." he asked her. "In this classroom, you will come in contact with some of your worst fears. However, as long as I am with you, you have nothing to fear. We're going to take a short quiz over my books to see how much you've learned already."

Hermione looked down at her Quiz, which Pansy threw at her.

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

Hermione completed all the questions to her satisfaction before anyone else. Lockhart collected all the quizzes after their half an hour was up.

"Hardly any of you remember my favorite color is lilac." Lockhart admonished. "Most of you need to read my books more carefully. Ms. Granger is the only one to get full marks."

As he flashed her a smile, Hermione felt the room get distinctly warmer. It resembled the sensation she felt after looking into Diego's eyes for too long.

"Whoever signed their names 'Snark' and 'Boojum'" he said frowning, "will be severely punished for answering all the questions with swear words."

There was tittering all over the classroom. Marcus looked as peaceful as always, but Ron's shoulders were shaking slightly.

He walked behind his desk and pulled out from under the table a large cage, shrouded in dark fabric. They could hear buzzing and screeching within. The class went quite and everyone leaned forward slightly.

"Again, I remind you," said Lockhart with a flourish, "you have nothing to fear while I am with you."

"I must ask you not to scream." he said as he laid a hand on the shroud. "You may provoke them." and the shroud was ripped off.

The cage was full of hundreds of black hairy beetles. _Doxies._

Blaise Zabini gave a laugh.

"Something amuses you Mr. Zabini?" asked Lockhart.

"Well," he said, still smiling, "They aren't exactly...terrifying."

"Oh, really?" asked Lockhart, fingering the catch on the cage door. Hermione noticed Marcus grab for his wand.

"Why don't we just see how dangerous they are?" asked Lockhart. He opened the cage door and stood back.

The Doxies swarmed out of the cage. The students in the front row were running over desks to get to the back of the room.

Hermione took cover under her desk. From thereunder she could see people's ankles running around frantically. There were a few people laying on the ground, breaking out in purple boils where they had been bitten.

"No worries," said Lockhart. "Watch closely now," He pulled out his wand and: "_Dodjidoksi Dewabunc!"_

Nothing happened. Save for a Doxy flew into his open mouth. He ran around the room and eventually out the classroom door. More people followed him out of the room. A few people were jumping out of portholes.

"In light of his credentials, I pictured his first class going differently." came Marcus's voice from beside her.

She turned to see him crouching behind her. His entire body was covered in a shimmering blue film.  
>"Don't worry." he told her. "I'll keep you safe." He was employing his mother's comforting tones. Hermione imagined she must have looked frantic if he was being overtly supportive. He pointed his wand directly between her eyes. If any other Slytherin were doing that, she would have been concerned for her life.<p>

"_Rita Repulsa_." Marcus incanted. Hermione saw a wave of light pass over her field of vision. Everything took on a blue tint. She looked down at her hand and saw the same force field covering her as Marcus. She flexed her fingers and the field around her fingers bent with her.

"It's a mosquito net charm." said Marcus, backing away while Hermione got out from under the table. "As long as you don't touch anyone and don't go near water, it repels any pests."

A Doxy flew at Hermione's head. It bounced back with a zap.

Hermione looked around at the carnage. The people that hadn't made it out were rolled up on the floor in pain. Remembering what Marcus said about not touching anyone, she resisted the impulse to drag them out of the classroom.

"Hermione." called Marcus as he administered the charm to Ron, whom he had left flailing in the corner to help her first. "Can I beg you to go get one of the Emmas then find Professor Flitwick? Madame Pomfrey if you can manage it. Ron and I will stay here and levitate people out of the room."

"Why don't you send Ron to get help?" Hermione asked, as she pulled out her wand. "I'm better at levitation charms."

"We're sending you out of harms way because you're a girl." said Marcus. The straight face made it impossible to tell if he was joking.

"I may be a girl, but you two are Slytherins." said Hermione as she levitated Pansy Parkinson.

"Very true." said Marcus. "I'm very surprised that I didn't jump out the window the minute I saw the Doxies. Some of Draco's Gryffindor bravery must be rubbing off on me."

~o!o~

Groundskeeper Stanton looked out over the field of Yorkshire stadium. He then looked behind him at the bleaches and benches full of angry spectators.

They had come here for a cricket game. Burwick v Glasgow. This match would determine the heir apparent to the World Cricket Championship. The game would not be played today. Due to inclement conditions, the game had been postponed after only three men at wicket.

As Stanton looked over the field again, he could not recall a stranger reason for a rain check. The air was thick with bright red butterflies. There were so many of them that the space between two butterflies was occupied by another butterfly. They had lost seventeen of the cricket balls and four wickets because they couldn't see the end of their own nose through the atmosphere of flapping insects.

As bizarre as this was, Stanton knew the management was going to find a way to blame him for it. He walked off to the main gate. If he got to the hobby shop, they might have a butterfly net he could use. If they did, he was going to need all of them.


	15. Voice

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 4: Voice**

_"You will listen! I have a voice!"_

* * *

><p>Draco walked along the outer deck of the ship. As he passed a branching corridor, a luggage cart zoomed around the corner and hit him full force. His helpless body was flung overboard by the force of the impact. A group of Slytherins, not a one of them under year six came out of a nearby class room to look over the side.<p>

Hermione watched the from her vantage point further down the deck. They laughed and pointed at the ripples Draco's sinking body had made. Eventually they all dispersed.

"They're gone." Hermione said. Next to her, Draco slipped off the invisibility cloak.

"As disturbing as those mannequins are, you can't deny they do a good job of drawing fire." said Hermione.

"It's embarrassing." said Draco, as they headed off to their joint Potion class. "I hate cowering behind a dummy."

"It's better than heroically treading water." said Hermione. "How many of those mannequins do you have left?"

"Two." said Draco. "Cynthia said she'd send me more."

"How did that happen?" asked Hermione. "Cynthia protecting you."

"My mother went to her for help." said Draco. Hermione was shocked. Draco's parents were notorious purebloods and Cynthia was the muggleborn all the muggleborns looked up to.

"Things were that bad?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah." said Draco. "Someone threw a chimaera into our garden."

"What happened?" asked Hermione, shocked.

"Well, right now it's in the azaleas." said Draco.

"They didn't get rid of it?" asked Hermione, her voice rising with panic.

"We had to call in a specialist from Greece." said Draco. "Here we are."

They had arrived at the Potions lab. Because certain conventions must be observed, the class convened in the hull of the ship, the nautical equivalent of a dungeon.

Draco and Hermione sat on either side of Neville Longbottom. Neville was notoriously bad at Potions. He had once managed to melted the bottom of his cauldron. In the current climate, they really couldn't afford a hole in the floor.

It wasn't that Neville was a bad student, it was just that Professor Snape's particular modus of teaching tended to turn the faint of heart into a nervous wreck.

"Today," said Professor Snape from the front of the room, "we will be making a calming draught. Instructions," he waved his wand "are on the board."

They all looked up to the board. It was blank. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. The Guild had furnished all the rooms with dry-erase boards instead of the chalk boards the teachers were used to. That was a different spell entirely.

Hermione got to work on her draught after the instructions were put up properly. Every so often, she looked to Neville to make sure he wasn't unintentionally making nerve gas. She shared this duty with Draco. Between the two of them, Neville's potion was doing well.

Hermione was dicing her Armadillo claws and getting ready to turn down the flame on her cauldron.

"Hermione."

She looked up to Neville. He was focused on grinding his cactus flower, not looking at her at all. After a few seconds, she went back to dicing.

"Hermione."

She looked up again. Neville was still grinding. Draco was stirring his cauldron. She went back to her Armadillo claws.

"Hermione."

This time she looked around the whole lab. Everyone was focused on their work. She didn't recognize the voice in any case. She added the Armadillo claws to her potion.

"Hermione."

"WHAT?" she yelped. She scared Neville, who knocked his cauldron over onto Professor Snape.

~o!o~

"Someone calling your name?" said Draco, after Hermione had finished her explanation of what happened in the potion lab.

"Yes." said Hermione. "Whoever it was just kept calling me."

"And that's why Neville has to do detention with the Emmas scraping barnacles off the hull?" asked Draco.

"I said I was sorry." said Hermione. "And Emma will let him use magic to get the barnacles off."

"Neville is going to use magic on the hull?" asked Harry. "You've doomed us all."

They were all gathered in the ship's library. All the books from the Hogwarts Castle had been relocated there. Madame Pince, and all the librarians before her, had seen the day coming. If you put all those untrained wizards in the same castle for long enough, eventually things are going to go up in smoke. To that end, every librarian had been fortifying the library with all the defensive spells they could muster. When Hogwarts castle had been destroyed, the library had not only survived, but all it's contents had magically transported two hundred miles away to a redundant location in Auchencrow.

"It sounds like something Fred and George would do." said Ron. "Like when Percy was studying for his OWLs. They kept sending a hex that would flick him on the ear."

"That's annoying." said Marcus.

"And they were casting the hex from the other side of the castle." said Ron.

"And that's just scary." said Marcus.

"So somebody," filled in Hermione, "could be maliciously annoying me from anywhere on the ship, and I can do Sweet Fanny Adams about it?"

"What did Percy ended up doing?" Draco asked Ron.

"He didn't make Prefect for nothing." said Ron. "He turned the flagstones in the dungeon into quicksand and when Fred and George were sunk up to their necks he turned it back to solid rock."

"How long were they stuck there?" asked Hermione.

"The teachers found them that evening. They let them out the following week." answered Ron.

"The balance has been disturbed."

"Pardon?" asked Hermione.

"They let them out the following week. McGonagall thought it would be a better idea if they were stuck there until OWLs were over." said Ron.

"That can't possibly be legal." said Harry.

"The World is out of balance. It must be set right."

"How did Professor Snape feel about them being trapped in his dungeon?" asked Marcus.

"What about a balance?" asked Hermione.

They all looked to Hermione.

"I didn't say anything about balance." said Ron, confused. "they didn't have much to balance on, being buried."

"If the balance is not set right, we will all be in peril."

"WHO IS DOING THAT?" she shouted.

Madame Pince hexed her.

~o!o~

Rosemary Boxer looked out across the grounds of Hyde Park. At this time of year, the plants should be green. As it was, the scenery was bright red.

The butterflies had been pretty at first, but now the plants were dying in light of the dietary needs of ten million butterflies. Everything from the amaryllis to the oak trees was starting to resemble a fur coat that the moths had found.

The funny thing was, Rosemary reflected, she hadn't seen any caterpillars, not even any chrysalis. One day there weren't butterflies, the next day there were a few butterflies, and she was buried under them within the week. What was also aggravating, the birds didn't seem to want to eat them. They weren't on anything's menu.

Rosemary gave an annoyed swat with her rake and a few of them fell down onto her leaf pile. She gave a satisfied smirk when they didn't move to get back up. A few more swats and maybe...

That was when the dead butterflies caught fire.


	16. Halloween

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 5: Halloween**

_"We reserve our inalienable right to party."_

* * *

><p>Across different cultures, Halloween means different things. In Italy, it is a day to honor the dead who came before you and made the world a better place. In England, it is a day to dress up as a spook and collect diabetes inducing amounts of candy. In the Americas, it is a day to dress like a prostitute with impunity and harass the one old man in the neighborhood who is overly protective of his lawn.<p>

If, however, you are an underage wizard in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean, it is a day to exercise your inalienable right to party.

"Go Seamus! Go Seamus! Go Seamus!" Hermione joined in the chanting. Seamus Finnigan of Gryffindor was river dancing on one of the tables in the Great Hall. Katie Bell was playing the bagpipes while Katheryn Bird of Hufflepuff accompanied on the violin.

With Lockhart's assistance, the Great Hall had been revamped for the Halloween feast. Whatever his ineptitude with Doxies, the man could throw a party. The four long tables had been removed and replaced with dozens of smaller ones. House elves wandered around the room carrying trays of finger food. Orange and black streamers hung over the walls and ceiling. Closer inspection revealed to be orange and black snakes that were slithering along ropes that had been hung up around the hall. A stage on the Slytherin side of the hall hosted a troupe of dancing skeletons doing the Macarena.

"This is fantastic!" said Hermione, when she sat back down at the table with Ron, Draco, Harry, and Marcus. "I've never been to a party like this." A bat landed on her shoulder and she fed it a grape.

"I've never been to a party at all." said Harry. "Is that Snape dancing with the skeletons?"

Ron turned to look.

"No," he said. "That's Professor Sinistra in her Snape costume. Snape's over there with Dumbledore." He pointed over to the corner where the two were locked in a heated Limbo contest.

"How does Dumbledore stay so limber at 150?" asked Draco.

"Mother turned him onto pilates." said Marcus.

The image of Dumbledore in a leotard formed in Hermione's mind. She set down her fork.

"Is he really 150?" she asked.

"No." said Marcus. "He doesn't turn 112 until next July."

"How long do wizards live?" asked a shocked Hermione.

"That's a difficult question." said Ron. "If you believe some stories, some wizards never die. They find a magic pebble at the bottom of some sacred volcano that gives them eternal life."

"Or if you don't go for magic pebbles," said Draco "My grandfather used to tell me stories about a spell that can actually steal some one else's life and you add all the years they would have lived onto your life span."

"On average though," said Ron. "It's normal for a Wizard to keep kicking to 200."

"Incredible." said Harry. He turned to Marcus. "How old is our mother?"

Hermione wondered what he meant, since Harry and Marcus were in no way related.

"Mother won't even tell us her birthday." said Marcus. "We just give her an extra gift on Christmas."

They continued to postulate how old Cynthia must be while Hermione turned and whispered to Draco.

"Isn't that a little strange?" she asked him. "Harry thinks of Cynthia as his mother, but he's only been living with her for a few months."

"Good point." said Draco. "Exactly how long were _you _living with Mrs. Granger before you started calling her 'mum'?"

"I started talking at eight months." said Hermione. "But that's not what I mean and you know it."

"Look," he said to her, "I was only staying with the Montefiores for a few weeks before we came on board, but they seemed like a family to me. Cynthia takes good care of him. He trusts her implicitly. Diego, Marcus, and Raleigh treat him like he's their brother. Actually, Raleigh follows him around everywhere. I mean...everyone should have a mother."

He looked away at this. His eyes creased like he was remembering something sad.

"Do you miss your parents?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yeah." said Draco. "I'll see them again soon." This sounded like less of a declaration and more like a wish.

"You know," said Ron, "I think we're the only table with more than one house seated at it."

They all looked around to confirm this. It was true. Even with many smaller tables, all the houses had gravitated to their usual rows. Ravenclaws sat with Ravenclaws. Slytherins avoided Gryffindors. No one bothered with the Hufflepuffs.

"Maybe we're actually our very own house and no one told us." said Marcus.

"Really? What's our house called?" asked Harry, getting in on the joke.

"The Fifth House. No reason to over think things." said Marcus.

"What animal should we use to symbolize our house?" asked Draco.

"I vote Polar Bear." said Harry. "When I first met Cynthia she threw my cousin Dudley into the polar bear enclosure."

"It's actually very appropriate." said Hermione. "The Polar Bear is the only bear that can swim and we are in the middle of the ocean. What should our colors be?"

"Black and White, no shades of gray." said Marcus. "As life should be."

"Agreed. It'll be easy to paint." said Ron, who raised his goblet. "To the fifth house!"

They all raised their glasses and chanted: "The fifth house!"

"Where dwell the smart/cunning/loyal/brave at heart!" Marcus finished.

Music started up. A band was forming on the stage where the skeletons had been dancing. Anyone who could play an instrument had come together to play a swing number.

In no time at all, people were dancing in the center of the hall. Fred was tearing it up with Angelina Johnson. Dumbledore and McGonagall spun around the dance floor. Some of the Hufflepuffs were forming a conga line.

Ginny Weasley walked up to their table. She didn't say anything, she just stood there, gradually turning redder.

"Would you like to dance?" asked Draco, figuring she had suffered enough. She looked a little thrown by this.

"Sure." she said. Draco lead her out to the dance floor.

After a few awkward movements, they were both cutting a rug and laughing it up.

Hermione was dancing nearby with Harry, both thoroughly enjoying themselves, even though neither of them could really dance. It doesn't matter if you're good at dancing, just as long as your as bad as everyone else.

And then...

"Hermione."

"Oh, not this again." she said turning away from Harry and looking around the room, both hands on her hips. "Alright, who is doing that?"

"What's doing who?" Harry asked.'

"I'm hearing someone calling me again." said Hermione.

"The world is out of balance."

"Yeah, yeah," said Hermione, "The world is out of balance, the circle of life is broken, and the government is mismanaged. What the sod do you want?"

"Your professor is in danger."

"Eh?" said Hermione. Now, that tip was a little more concrete.

Hermione looked around the room to see if one of the Professors was obviously missing. Snape was taking his turn at the Limbo. Dumbledore and McGonagall had joined the conga line. Flitwick was conducting the band in a rendition of 'Friday of the Previous Week'. Professor Dreamy... er, that is, Lockhart was...where?

"Do you see Lockhart anywhere?" she asked grabbing hold of Harry.

"I haven't seen him since the feast started." said Harry, who wasn't having much luck following the conversation.

Hermione took off. She burst through the nearest exit and ran down the hall to the bow of the ship. She scaled up three decks until she reached the door of Lockhart's office. He had put a big gold star on the door over his name plate: 'Prof. Lockhart, O.o.M. 3, DFDL;HM, WW:MCS, ICBM'.

She knocked on the door.

"Professor Lockhart?" she called. No sound responded.

"Are we going to throw him overboard while Dumbledore is distracted?" asked Ron, coming down the hall. He was following Harry, who must have run out after her.

"_Alohomora_." said Hermione, ignoring him.

The door opened and she looked around inside. There didn't seem to be any signs of a struggle. From the wall, dozens of pictures of Lockhart looked down at them.

"This guy loves his face." said Ron. "What are they all doing?"

All the pictures looked like they were beckoning them in. Some of them were pointing them to the far side of the office. They all had frantic looks on their faces.

Hermione walked in but still couldn't see anything out of kilter. There was a desk on that side of the room covered in letters. Fan mail, she supposed. Something like a furry beach ball jumped out from behind the desk. Hermione stepped back, but Ron ran up to it.

"It's a Puffskein!" he cried picking it up and cuddling it. "I had one when I was little, but Fred killed it."

The Puffskein hummed contentedly as he stroked its fur.

"Do you think Professor Lockhart brought them in for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked.

"Not even possible." said Ron. "Puffskeins are the most benign of all magical creatures. They've never hurt anyone."

"They have now." said Harry from behind Lockharts desk.

Hermione walked over to see what he was talking about.

Lockhart was lying down behind the desk. Puffskeins were all over him. They had long tongues that they wrapped around him to tie him down. One of the more forward thinking Puffskeins had his tongue wrapped around Lockhart's neck. Lockhart looked an unbecoming shade of blue.

Hermione leaned down and started pulling the tongue away from his throat.

"Stop." said Ron. Hermione paused and looked up at him. He handed his Puffskein over to Harry and picked up the one that was strangling Lockhart.

"Good boy." said Ron soothingly while he rubbed the hairball gently. The tongue slackened and was retracted back into the Puffskein, like a tape measure.

Lockhart gasped for air the minute his throat opened back up. He started struggling against the other tongues.

"Get them off me!" he yelled.

"We will Professor." said Ron with smug, sadistic glee, and he picked up another Puffskein and started coddling it. "Just don't struggle or they might sting you with their poisonous tongue barbs."

"Oh, gawds." said Professor Lockhart, freezing still. "I'd forgotten about their tongue barbs."

Strangely, Hermione had forgotten about them too. In fact, when she looked up Puffskeins later in the school library, the book she was consulting would have forgotten them also. At this point, she would get the sneaking suspicion that Ron was telling a fib.

"This could be your next book Professor." said Harry, cradling one of the Puffskeins until it let go. "_Plight of the Puffskeins _by Gilderoy Lockhart. I'd even write the forward."

"The world is out of balance."

"I think Lockhart is going to be alright." said Hermione, trying to phrase it so it didn't seem like she was talking to a disembodied voice.

"Lockhart's condition was unrelated to the imbalance. Now, you know I am trustworthy." said the voice.

It made sense. Give someone a tip on something important that they can act on and they trust you on the more ethereal stuff.

Now that Hermione really focused on it, she couldn't say what the voice actually _sounded _like. It was like she _knew_ what the voice had said, but she didn't really _hear _it.

"Well, hypothetically saying you are trustworthy," said Hermione, abandoning trying to sound sane, "What is throwing the world out of balance?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron, Harry, and Lockhart together.

"The Butterfly Threat." said the voice.

~o!o~

Thousands of miles away, underneath London, an emergency meeting of the ministry of magic was convening.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, the Head of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Earnst Flemwick, a few Creature Control field agents, and a smattering of administrators from the Office of Misinformation were all seated around a large round table in a dark room. Only the surface of the table was lit by a single overhanging lamp.

"Gentleman, Ladies," began Flemwick, "we have quite a devilment on our hands. A magical creature is raging out of control in Britain."

One of the field agents put a glass box on the desk. Inside a bright red butterfly flapped around, trying to find a way out.

"I don't recognize that species." said one of the Misinformers. "Is that a type of fairy."

"No," answered Flemwick, "It is a butterfly, almost indistinguishable from every other non-magical insect. However there are some key differences."

"Like what?" said Fudge, who couldn't believe he'd been called down here for a Butterfly.

"For one, is the iridescent color of the wings. It does not resemble any other known species and is drawing massive attention from the Muggles for its novelty." said Flemwick.

"Next," he continued "is the unaccountable numbers. The massive amount of the species flocking over Britain is another factor that's drawing massive amounts of muggle attention. The are at a loss to explain how many have appeared so fast."

Fudge and the Misinformers listened, bored. He was just telling them why the Muggles were paying attention and had given no good reason to believe this was a magical species, and therefore a threat to the secrecy of their world.

"And finally," said Flemwick, "This happens when they die."

On cue, the butterfly in the glass boxes fell dead to the bottom.

"What-?" started Fudge.

"Wait for it." said Flemwick.

The butterfly burst into flame. Among other surprises, it was startling the size of the fire it made. The smoke rose up and out of the airholes in the box. In the air above the table, the smoke twisted and congealed until it solidified into a bunch of small floating black pebbles.

The each pebble exploded into a set of bright red wings and the onlookers found themselves looking at a multitude of brand new flaming red butterflies flying around the dark room.


	17. Christmas on Deck

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 6: Christmas on Deck**

_"Mele Kalikimaka!"_

* * *

><p><strong>A Deadly Swarm of Pretty Butterflies<strong>

The Ministry of magic issued a procla-

mation earlier today that the flock of

butterflies being seen all over Britain

is actually the occurrence of a a hereto-

fore unknown magical creature. The ex-

tremely conspicuous nature of these crea-

tures poses a very real threat to the ongo-

ing secrecy of the wizarding world. The

most obvious magical facet of this new

creature is its ability to multiply when it

catches fire at the end of it's life span. This

ability is closely related to that of the phoenix,

which can live indefinitely by being reborn

from its ashes. The Department for the Reg-

ulation and Control of Magical Creatures has

been unable to determine if this new creature

is the result of a breach of the ban on experi-

mental breeding. The ministry has urged peo-

ple to try any means to contain the butterflies

and a reward of seventy galleons has been

offered to anyone who can eliminate them

without them multiplying upon their death.

So, far the butterflies have not bee spotted

in any country other than Britain …

"This definitely falls under the heading of a 'Butterfly Threat' 'upsetting the balance'." said Hermione throwing down the article on the table.

The Fifth House, as they had taken to calling themselves, was gathered in the library.

"If muggles find out about magic then..." Hermione stopped in the middle of this consideration.

"Unspecified bad things will happen." offered Marcus.

"Yes, that." agreed Hermione.

"We've always had to hide." said Ron. "But now people would be looking for us. They won't just overlooking things anymore. Until now, they've been perfectly happy to see an elephant appear in their neighbor's garden and just think they've been working too hard."

"It's not like we haven't dealt with threats like this before." said Marcus, trying to soothe Hermione's panic. "We have memory charms for a reason. No one remembers the decade where a bunny ruled over all of England."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Exactly." said Marcus.

"I don't see what the problem is." said Ron. "They'll all just die off when the first frost roles in."

"And," said Marcus, putting a comforting hand on Hermione's frantic shoulders, "The Ministry is dealing with it, personally. They're working as hard at getting rid of them as they would be for a loose dragon. They're a lot more qualified to deal with the Butterfly Threat than a group of misfit second years."

He managed to get Hermione to sit back down and breathe evenly.

"The Ministry will deal with this and the Phantom Voice will be appeased." said Marcus.

~o!o~

Hermione stepped out onto her balcony one morning to find the weather absolutely frigid. It was the beginning of Christmas break and the ship was making its way back to the dock in Falmouth to drop of the children that would be leaving to spend Christmas with their families.

From her balcony, she could see the snow covered island on the horizon. She looked hard to see if she could make out a cloud of bright red butterflies in the sky, but the air was a clear and blissful gray.

Ron had been wrong, The butterflies didn't die off with the frost. They were just more obvious.

A few hours later, she was dressed and standing on the sky deck with Marcus looking down at the disembarking students on the pier below.

They saw Draco Malfoy walking down one of the gangplanks. A luggage cart rolled down after him and crushed him without slowing down.

Marcus turned around.

"They went for the decoy." he said to nothing.

The real Draco took off his invisibility cloak.

"That was my last dummy." he said.

"They tried to tie the last one to the propeller." said Hermione. "This one they just ran over. Maybe they're getting bored."

After everyone had disembarked and the ship pulled away from the pier, they walked towards the forward lounge.

The forward lounge was had a wall that was one long window. The wall wrapped around from one side of the ship to the other, so you had a panoramic view of the horizon. The room was full of plush sofas and low sitting tables. There was a long line of couches set up a long the window wall facing out to sea. Someone was sitting on the foremost couch; A woman with severely short hair.

"Mother." said Marcus as he ran up to her.

Cynthia stood up and hugged her son. When Hermione and Draco walked over she embraced them both in turn.

"Draco," she said, "I've made arrangements for your Parents to visit the ship on Christmas day. Your family will have use of one of the suites."

Draco grinned at her hugely.

"Thanks Cynthia." he said, giving her another hug.

"So tell me," asked Cynthia, sitting back down on he sofa. "How are you enjoying school life at sea?"

"I like my new room a lot better." said Hermione. "The flagstones in the Ravenclaw tower would have a layer of ice on them at this time of year."

"Well, I don't like the ship." said Draco. "People keep trying to throw me overboard."

"I'm very satisfied with the new school." said Marcus. "Although, the scenery gets a little redundant. You've seen one endless stretch of ocean and you've seen it all."

"And how are the actual classes?" asked Cynthia.

"Harry and I are consistently performing at the top of our classes." said Marcus, like a soldier delivering the morning report.

Hermione gave a cough.

"Behind Hermione, that is." Marcus added.

"I'm doing ok." said Draco.

"We get to pick what classes we want to do next year." said Hermione.

"Ah, that's right." said Cynthia. "Do you know what classes you want?"

"Not really." admitted Hermione. "It can determine my whole future and I really don't want to pick the wrong one."

"That is a very real danger." said Cynthia. "Do you know what happened to the last student who chose classes for which he was not suited?"

"Um, no." said Hermione, nervously.

Cynthia leaned in and looked her squarely in the face.

"After he failed the first homework assignment," said Cynthia, "They opened up the portal to Hell they keep in the dungeons and threw him into the eternal fire where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth."

Hermione stared back in blank shock until Cynthia's face broke into a wide grin and Draco and Marcus busted out laughing.

Hermione cradled her head in her hands.

"That's not funny!" she said, laughing.

"There's nothing to worry about." said Cynthia. "If you choose the wrong class, you try again. When I was a student I took Divination so I could play the stock market, but I never managed to even forecast tomorrow's weather. So I dropped the class and refocused on arithmancy."

"What is arithmancy?" asked Hermione.

"Arithmancy is the use of number patterns in making more powerful spells." said Cynthia. "For example, If you want to make an elephant fly you can either use one really powerful levitation spell, which is impossible for most witches, or you can calculate the weight distribution and use several smaller hovering charms at weight bearing points of its body."

"Have you ever made an elephant fly?" asked Hermione.

"No." answered Cynthia. "But I've made a house fly. And I've made a horse fly."

"Did you ever make a dragon fly?" asked Marcus.

"Don't be redundant, Marcus." said Cynthia. "They can fly on their own."

Cynthia looked back over the sea. Falmouth had disappeared behind them.

"We're underway to the North Sea." she said. "I have a matter to attend to with Dumbledore, but I'll see you all for dinner. Diego will entertain you until then."

Diego?

"Hello." came Diego's voice from the doors of the lounge.

Hermione turned to see Diego standing with Ron, Harry, and Raleigh, Marcus's little brother. They were all dressed in swimming trunks. As Hermione looked at Diego's pectorals her thoughts became less coherent.

"We're going to play water polo in the indoor pool." said Raleigh, jumping around excitedly. Raleigh only came up to around waist height on Diego. He had tawny red hair and greenish brown eyes. He had the magnitude of cuteness of a hundred thousand puppies.

"Draco! Marcus! Do you wanna be on my team?" Raleigh asked.

"Sure," said Draco. "I don't have any swim trunks, though."

"We brought a few with us." said Diego. "And they can't both be on your team, Raleigh. Harry and Ron are already on your team."

"So?" asked Raleigh, looking innocent.

"So, that would leave Hermione and Me alone against the five of you." Diego said with a grin.

She liked the idea of being alone with Diego.

"Do you want to join us, Hermione?" asked Diego.

Those abs were hypnotic.

"Cynthia picked out a one piece for you." said Diego.

His cream colored skin really brought out the red of his lips.

"Hermione?" asked Diego.

"Of course she's coming." said Marcus, as he put an arm over her shoulders and gave her a helpful throttle. Hermione fell back to Earth out of Diego-land.

"Sure!" she piped up. "I'll just get the swim suit." She ran out of the room before she could turn any redder.

~o!o~

Christmas Eve Day, Hermione was taking a break from the boys rambunctiousness. They were all trying to pack a semesters worth of fun into the few days they had the ship to themselves. Right now, they were all in the indoor soccer field. Diego had decided that the game needed a slight improvement and had magically enlarged the ball to eight feet across. Then he enchanted it so it shot across the field at the slightest touch.

Having gotten tired of a life sized version of pinball, Hermione was studying in the forward lounge, watching the ice caps pass in front of the ship. She was writing in one of her journals and she took a moment to lean back on the couch and rest her eyes.

She hadn't heard the voice for a while now. Did that mean the world was back in balance? Had the voice just given up? Was she simply crazy?

"_Accio_!"

Hermione felt her journal fly out of her lap. She jumped up and saw a sweat soaked Draco and Raleigh standing at the back of the lounge. Draco was reading her journal.

"Getting ahead on homework?" he asked her, smirking.

"Give that back!" she said, vaulting over the couch.

"It's funny." said Draco. "I don't remember any of the teachers assigning us three pages of 'Hermione Montefiore' written over and over."

She was chasing them, now. The were running down the halls of the ship. Raleigh had surprising speed for someone with such short legs.

"Are you being adopted? Or is your name changing by marriage?" teased Draco. Raleigh laughed as Hermione fumed.

"Which Montefiore are you marrying? Raleigh's a little young for you." Draco continued.

"Yuck!" said Raleigh as he and Draco took the staircase in threes.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled.

"Marcus doesn't seem like he's ready to settle down." said Draco, taking the next corner at speed.

"I'm gonna maroon you on an iceberg!" Hermione threatened.

"Now, Diego on the other hand..." said Draco.

"_Immobulus!"_ Hermione screamed.

The Freezing Charm did its job. Draco and Raleigh both stopped moving in mid stride. Raleigh, who had been bounding down the corridor, just hovered in mid jump.

Hermione walked around in front of Draco and pulled her journal out of his hands. His terrified gaze followed her while the rest of his body could only stay helplessly still.

Hermione pointed an accusing finger in his face, but before she could perform the malediction they all heard something from the double doors to their left. The doors to Cynthia's suite.

"The strangest attribute about the butterflies," they heard Cynthia say from inside, "Is their instinct to swarm."

"Do not most insects swarm?" asked the voice of Cornelius Fudge.

"Many species do, but never butterflies." said Cynthia. "This map was created using spell detection and was fine tuned to only the butterflies magical signature. It shows an accurate location of every Fire Butterfly in Britain. As you can see, at any given time, they're all in the same area, and the swarm has uniform density. It doesn't thin out towards the edges.

"We took samples of the swarm, but as soon as we took them more than a hundred meters from the main swarm, the samples died."

"You mean they caught fire?" asked Fudge.

"No, I mean they died." said Cynthia. "They disintegrated into ash then and there."

"So this is how we can eliminate them!" said Fudge, sounding pleased.

"We'd have to take them away from the swarm one at a time, and they'd still be reproducing faster than we were killing them." said Cynthia. "It could be used to control the populations growth, but there is something else I find...troubling."

"What is that?" asked Dumbledore's voice.

"This is a picture of one of the traps we used to capture samples from the swarm." she said.

It was silent inside for a moment.

"Why," asked Dumbledore, "is there an anteater tied on to the side of it?"

"So the artichokes don't overheat." said Cynthia.

"Oh, I see." said Dumbledore.

Hermione had to fight to not open the door and get a look at that thing.

"We set up thirty of these in Totleigh-in-the-Wold when the swarm was in that town. It caught one butterfly."

"So the trap didn't work?" asked Fudge.

"The first capture worked fine. Then this happened."

More silence.

"You don't mean..."

"They couldn't..."

"Yes," said Cynthia.

Hermione's traitorous left hand inched toward the doorknob.

"After the first butterfly was captured, the rest of the swarm didn't go near the other traps." said Cynthia.

"They...They _learned_ not to go near the traps?" asked a bewildered Fudge.

"Yes," said Cynthia. "And they all learned it at the same time."

"You mean they told each other about the traps?" asked Fudge. "Like a gossip chain."

"No, I mean like you burn your left hand on the stove and you don't put your right hand near it." said Cynthia. "I think we're dealing with a collective consciousness. Each tiny butterfly mind is connected to every other forming a vast neural network."

"So, it's one butterfly with ten million bodies." said Dumbledore.

"Yes," said Cynthia, "and it's getting more bodies every minute."

~o!o~

On the day before school resumed, The fifth house had convened in the Potions lab to finish all the homework they'd been putting off 'till the last minute. Normally, Hermione would have been done the first day but Dreamy Montefiore had been pulling her attention away from Charms. She was embarrassed at how easily she'd been diverted and she planned to ask her mother how you build up a tolerance to handsome men.

They had finally finished their work and the boys had all run off to get in one more good use of the soccer field and their giant soccer ball, The Diego Special. Hermione had stayed a little longer to give her cauldron a second wash. You could never bee too careful with potion residue.

She was walking down the bowels of the ship on her way back on deck when she heard:

"The world is out of balance."

"Yes," she said, "We've covered that." she started walking faster.

"The butterflies will burn away the face of the Earth."

"There's no need to exaggerate." said Hermione, now at a dead sprint, though she didn't seem to be getting any farther away from the voice.

"This is not an exaggeration. The Earth is actually going to burn."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, frantic. "Walk around with a cardboard sign saying 'The End is NeAR!'?"

"Why?" asked Cynthia.

"Whoa!" yelped Hermione. "Where did you come from?"

"_I_ was already here." said Cynthia. "_You_ came running down the hall."

Hermione looked around her. She was in a section of the ship she didn't recognize. She has been running _away_ rather than running _to _anywhere and had gotten very lost.

"Um," Hermione cast about. "I was just...That is..."

"Why don't you come with me?" asked Cynthia and led her through a door.

They came out into a room that was filled wall to wall with monitors and complicated consoles. A man was sitting in a swivel chair by one of the radar screens.

"Hello, Professor Kettleburn." said Cynthia.

The man turned around. Hermione saw he had one leg. And when we say one leg, we mean the other leg and both arms were nowhere to be found.

"Hello, Chairwoman Montefiore." he was very cheerful for a triaplegic. "Have I told you how much I love the new Care of Magical Creatures lab?"

"You send me a letter to that effect every week." said Cynthia grinning in the face of his blinding optimism.

"This is where we study magical creatures?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Cynthia, "this is where we look for them." She steered Hermione toward one of the monitors. It displayed a radar map of the surrounding ocean.

"As a species, we no more about the surface of our neighboring planets than we do about the bottom of the ocean." said Cynthia. "We've only discovered a handful of aquatic magical creatures. Logic dictates that since most of the Earth's surface is water the maritime species should outnumber the land-dwellers."

"So, to help me in my life long dream to find the Kraken," said Professor Kettleburn, "Chairwoman Montefiore has given me a lab with sonar, radar, light actuation, and every other remote sensory tool she could think of so I can search the depths of the ocean."

"So," said Hermione, "there could be something down there with powers we know nothing about?"

"Yes," said Cynthia, "That's why we're going to knock on the Abyss and see what answers."

~o!o~

Hermione walked into the lowest engine room of the ship in the wee hours of the morning. She locked the door behind her and looked around to make absolutely sure there wasn't so much as a spider down here. She had calculated that this was the least likely time and place to be seen talking to herself.

"Ok," she said, "I am willing to accept that you are real. I am also willing to listen to your requests."

She waited there in embarassing silence.

"I knew I was mad." said Hermione after a while.

"You seem downright furious." said a voice from nowhere.

"Yes, well." she had not thought this through. "I'm sorry if was … disagreeable before, but now I'm ready to listen to what you have to say."

"The world is out of balance." said the voice.

"Because of the butterflies?" asked Hermione.

"The world will burn." said the voice.

"Why would they do that?" asked Hermione.

"They do not do so maliciously. They simply do not belong. They are like a bacteria in a vulnerable host." said the voice.

"Well, that's just not fair for anyone." said Hermione.

"It sucks." said the voice. "I had to come up to sea level to deal with this crap."

"So, you're an ocean creature?"

"I prefer the term 'maritime denizen'."

"How can we neutralize the Butterfly Threat?" said Hermione, feeling the need to get back on track.

"I will show you." said the voice.

"And what do I call you?" asked Hermione.

"I ..."

It was quite possible the voice had never had to introduce itself before. It had probably never even had to define itself in reference to anything else.

"I am Calypso."

~o!o~

Back in Britain, in the town of Burwick-upon-Tweed, the townspeople were having a deeply philosophical conversation.

"Aaaaahahahaahaaaaa!" said the Butcher.

"AAAAAHAHAArghghg!" countered the Baker.

"AIEEEIEyyeee!" conjectured the Candle stick Maker.

"YYYaahhahahaha!" supositioned the Tailor.

"OH for the Love of God! Help!" counter-argued the Constable.

Their debates were normally more cogent, but today they were distracted. The town of Burwick-upon-Tweed was being attacked by butterflies in the bleak midwinter.

Normally such a passive insects, the bugs were swooping down by the millions and carrying the screaming villagers away. The townspeople were running scared through the streets or hunkering down in their basements.

The butterflies hunkered down on every surface of the buildings and combusted simultaneously. Their infernal spawn moved from building to building in their arson spree. They attacked everything from the proud city hall to the small cottage at the city limits.

By dusk of that day, the whole city had burned to the ground.


	18. Schematic

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 7: Schematic**

_"There are 10 kinds of people in the world. Those who understand binary and those who do not."_

* * *

><p>"Ms. Granger!" said Professor Flitwick.<p>

"Whu?" asked Hermione blearily, her head shooting up from her desk. She looked around to see Professor Flitwick looking at her critically, and the rest of her Charms class looking at her in amusement.

"Is everything alright, Ms. Granger." asked Professor Flitwick.

"Yes, sir." she said, embarrassed.

The lesson continued. She was already adept at cartwheeling charms, so she hadn't missed much during her sojourn to dreamland.

"Did he say anything important?" Hermione asked Grace.

"Not really." said Grace. "I didn't know you were asleep."

"What?" asked Hermione. It was not like Grace to be unobservant.

"You were still taking notes." she said.

Hermione looked down at her parchment. The top few lines were cogent sentences, but the rest of the paper was covered in crisscrossing lines labeled with numbers and abbreviations that made no sense to her. She must have been sleep writing.

She stuffed the parchment down in her bag as class ended and headed towards the library.

It had been a month since she was last contacted by Calypso. Since that month there had been no hint, clue, or implication as to how she was supposed to defeat a swarm of deadly butterflies.

Neither the Ministry nor the Guild had any clue how to defeat them either. The swarm had been getting progressively bigger. It was all they could do to wipe the memories of the blighted towns and blame the fires on the Labor Party.

She had been passing out from exhaustion due to the excess stress. Her academic performance was suffering from it. She was barely pulling an 'A-'.

On top of everything else, she'd been sleep writing on anything that was nearby when she fell asleep. She would wake up to find her hand had been drawing of its own accord. The drawings never made sense, though. Crisscrossing lines making a maze and labels that meant nothing.

She sat down at the Fifth House's usual table in the library and slammed her head down on the desk top.

"Alright Hermione?" asked Marcus.

"No," she said quietly. "And it's time to face facts. I was hearing voices because I was crazy and now the catatonia is setting in."

"Falling asleep in class is not evidence of mental illness." said Draco. "If it was, we'd have locked up Ron months ago."

"The men in white coats would have been in Professor Binns' class, waiting for me." agreed Ron

"Why do they keep him on?" asked Harry. "No one is interested in history just because of how boring he is. He made the Giant Wars sound dull."

"They don't have to pay him, for one thing." said Marcus. "And he has more experience than any of the other teachers. He's been teaching longer than anyone else worldwide."

"My ass has been my ass for a long time." said Ron. "That doesn't mean I have to listen to it for an hour every day."

"Maybe you just need more sleep." offered Harry. "We can take on some of your work, give you some more free time."

"Are you offering to do my homework?" asked Hermione. "Professor McGonagall would see through that in a second. Your handwriting is atrocious; your letters are an inch bigger than mine."

"We only want to help." said Marcus.

"I know," said Hermione, "and I'm sorry, but I don't think I could get any more sleep. Every time I do fall asleep I wake myself up drawing."

"Drawing?" repeated Draco.

"Yes." said Hermione, slapping her Charms 'notes' down on the table. "It's the same thing every time: I got to sleep and I wake up to find these everywhere. I was hearing voices and now my hands are doing things independently of my waking mind. At this rate I'm going to be roaming the halls strangling people. I should just turn myself in to Professor Dumbledore and -"

"Do you have any more?" asked Marcus. He was studying the drawing she had made.

"Pardon?" asked Hermione.

"Do you have any more sketches like these?" asked Marcus.

"Um, yes." she said as she rifled through her bag. The sketches were meaningless to her. They were increasingly irritating. Yet, she couldn't make herself throw them away. There was an entire shelf in her trunk dedicated to holding the sketches.

"Here." she said, handing some of the sketches she had been keeping in her bag.

Marcus spread them out on the table before them.

"Are these...?" asked Harry.

"I think so." said Marcus.

He rotated a few of the sketches. Then he reordered a few here and there. Then he took two of them and put them edge to edge. To Hermione's great surprise, the lines from one sketch continued onto the other sketch unbroken. It was like one picture had been drawn over two overlapping papers, but Hermione knew she had drawn the two on different days.

Marcus added another sheet to the first two, then another, then another. Soon all the sketches were arranged so all the lines connected over in one cohesive, if still confusing, picture.

"It's a circuit!" said Harry.

"A what?" asked Draco.

"A circuit. Mother was teaching us how to read them." said Marcus.

"What's a circuit?" asked Ron.

"A circuit is a closed path of energy." said Marcus. "This circuit," he indicated the drawing, "is a digital circuit. It's something muggles use instead of magic."

"How?" asked Draco.

"You know that muggles have tools that play music and take pictures and add numbers." said Marcus. It was going to be like explaining the concept of a forest fire to an Inuit. "This is the technology that accomplishes all that. At it's most basic level its very, very small charges of electricity running along tiny paths. A circuit board."

"Muggles need a machine to do addition?" asked Draco, smirking.

"This machine can give you the answer to 145,286,748 plus 673,259,832 the second you finish typing in the numbers."

Draco's mouth hung open, impressed.

"It's 818,546,580." said Ron, shrugging casually.

The others stared at him, their brains having shorted out.

"Well," said Marcus, the first to recover, "that takes...longer...for most people. The point is a few little charges can do anything from adding numbers to piloting a ship. Electric charges have two principle states: Positive and Negative. The charges travel through the circuits, delivering messages to other components, like ships in a fleet talking to each other in Morse Code. Dots and dashes making up complex information."

"So," said Ron, "Hermione's been making an electric machine in her sleep?"

"Yes," said Marcus, "and no. The symbols labeling the transistors aren't electric, they're magical."

"It's a circuit that has magic running along the little paths?" asked Draco.

"Yes," said Marcus. "The most significant difference is that while electricity can only have two states, positive and negative, magic can have seven states. One state for each of the Principle Elements: Water, Fire, Earth, Air, Lighting, Void, and Surprise."

"It's a machine that can do magic." said Hermione. "And depending on how you arrange the circuits is the more complex magic it can do."

"You catch on fast." said Marcus.

"The fastest." said Hermione. "And I have a shelf full of other schematics. If I show them to you, could you put them together?"

"Sure," said Harry and Marcus together. "Mother has been teaching us because she's working on something similar. She's trying to make a magic computer."

"Do you think that's what this is?" asked Hermione. "A magic computer?"

"No," said Marcus conjuring up a magnifying glass and inspecting the schematic, "it looks a lot simpler than that. It's hard to tell just by looking at this component. I think it's something to do with sound waves."

~o!o~

Cynthia stared out the window of he London office. She couldn't stare very far. The view was completely obstructed by all the butterflies that were standing on her window pane. Behind her a line of men in lab coats were standing at attention looking terrified.

They were scientists employed by the Guild. They were Chemists, Microbiologist, Zoologists. They were the best of the best. They were the cream of the crop.

And they were in deep shit.

"Tell me," said Cynthia finally, still facing the butterfly obstructed window, "who thought it was a good idea to splice phoenix DNA into a monarch butterfly?"

The scientists remained determinedly facing forward, trying very hard not to stare at the guilty party.

Eventually, one sandy haired man, sweating buckets, stepped forward from the lineup.

"You were right." said Cynthia, still not turning around. This startled the scientists, who had been expecting to be fed to a manticore. "You proved conclusively that a mediocre creature can have the Belfast Apparatus ingrained into it's cellular structure, thus becoming magical."

The Belfast Apparatus was the subject of the teams research. It was the part of the cell that produced magic. Countless millions of Belfast Apparatus working in every cell of a wizards body was what gave them all their powers.

"You also created an independently functioning, highly successful species with abilities we've never seen before anywhere in the world." continued Cynthia.

In the face of all this praise, the scientists had been unclenching their worried bodies.

"Not telling me that one of the experiments had escaped the lab," said Cynthia, "Now that was a _bad _idea."

They clenched again. It was amazing how that woman could glare daggers at you while facing the other way.

"And when said experiment started appearing by the thousands all over Britain would also have been a good time to mention something." continued Cynthia.

Their instincts were telling them to run away. Their higher reasoning was telling them that no place was safe.

"Now, there are millions of them. Cities are burning down. People are dying." Cynthia continued in a dangerously even voice.

Dr. Laurel wondered if his wife knew where he kept copies of his will.

"We didn't know." one of the Scientists finally broke down. "We didn't know it would reproduce so fast. All it did in the lab was glow in the dark."

"Of course," said Cynthia, "No one could have seen this coming. No one would ever think of butterflies as a threat."

They looked at one another, hopefully. Was this forgiveness?

"We'll simply have to be more careful in the future." said Cynthia. "From now on, your experiments will be conducted exclusively in the Vostok laboratory."

They all grimaced at this. Vostok was the company owned station in Antarctica. Still, it was better than being brutally murdered by the Chairwoman.

"Before you go," said Cynthia, still staring down the butterflies who dared to cling to her window, "do you have any idea how they might be eliminated?"

Nothing for a while, then:

"No," said Dr. Laurel, "No idea, Chairwoman."

The temperature seemed to drop in the room. Then the scientists noticed that frost was actually forming on the walls.

"Get out." said Cynthia.

They jumped over each other to get out of her office first. They had to get to Antarctica before she could change her mind about sparing their lives.

~o!o~

Fred and George snuck down a seldom used passage of the ship. They looked down both sides of the corridor before ducking into a storage room.

"Who's there?" asked a voice.

"It's us." said Fred.

The light went on in the storage room, illuminating Marcus, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Harry and Ginny all sitting around a table in the middle of the room.

"What's she doing here?" asked George, indicating Ginny.

"She wanted to come." said Draco, shrugging.

"Now that you're here." said Hermione, "we can convene the meeting of the Fifth House. I've called you all here to -"

"Did you draw that?" asked Fred. He was pointing to the coat of arms painted on the wall of a polar bear on a black and white striped shield.

"That was me." said Draco. "What's the point of having a secret club if you can't have a logo."

"I've called you all here," continued Hermione, more firmly, "to help me build that!" she pointed to the other wall where Harry and Marcus had arranged the schematic. They covered the entire wall, side to side and top to bottom.

"I've asked Fred and George to come in on the project to help gather supplies." said Hermione. "We have most of the tools we need, but we need some raw materials to work with. I need you two, and Ginny, if she wants, to sneak around the ship and bring us anything with electrical components we can repurpose. The rest of us will work in shifts on the construction."

"So, what is it?" asked George, indicating the schematic.

"No idea." said Marcus.

"What will it do?" asked Ginny.

"No clue." admitted Hermione.

"Where did you get the plans?" asked Fred.

"She was drawing them in her sleep." said Marcus.

"After hearing a disembodied voice." offered Harry.

"So, we're going to build this, flip it on, and see what happens?" asked Fred.

"Yes." said Hermione.

"Ok," said George, "we're in."


	19. Unsteady Goes The Course

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 8: Unsteady Goes The Course**

_"And there was the straw that broke the camel's back."_

* * *

><p>Ron and Hermione were laboring over a dubious contraption in the store room. More specifically, Hermione was working on it while Ron handed her tools.<p>

"Soldering iron." she said.

Ron passed it to her.

"Glue gun." she said.

Ron handed it over.

"Screw driver." she said.

Ron passed it to her.

"_Phillips _screw driver." she amended.

Ron handed her a different one.

They had been doing this for the past three months now. Either Marcus, Harry, or Hermione would come in to assemble the machine. They did this at the expense of regular class attendance and sleep. All they had to work with was whatever parts Fred, George, and Ginny had 'found'.

There was a pile of such parts in the far corner. The remains of a TV. The shell of a blender. An errant vacuum. Since they didn't have access to a radio shack they were forced to extract parts from other machines. Since the ship had previously been part of a muggle cruise line, the decks were just lousy with muggle technology.

On the wall was the Schematic, with a few improvements marked in here and there, some rough calculations drawn onto the margins. When one technician left they would mark off whatever they had finished and where the others should pick up.

Ron and Draco, who wouldn't know a transistor from a transvestite, found a use for themselves running interference so the teachers never caught on to the high absenteeism and rampant theft. They had collectively scheduled the groups homework and study times, as well as keeping track of all test dates. They also devised a system where, instead of everyone doing their own assignments, one person's finished project would be copied for the use of the others. A little charmwork to alter the hand writing and no one would notice the forgery. The effect of the high level organization was everyone did less schoolwork and grades actually improved.

The theft was a little harder to cover up. Mainly because, since no one on board actually used the muggle technology, there wasn't much going on in the way of an investigation. It was like being sent to a house in the desert and asked to find the leak in the roof.

Hermione was attaching a reconfigured remote onto what had been an elliptical machine. After it fell into place with a satisfying snap, she took a step back.

"I'm done." she said.

"Good," said Ron, "dinner is starting soon. I'll mark off the -"

"I mean _it's_ done." appended Hermione.

"What? All of it?" asked Ron.

"All of it." Hermione confirmed.

"Done done?" he asked.

"Done and done." she said.

Ron looked over the thing. It looked like the descendant of Frankenstein's Playstation. Odd appendages of duct hoses and copper pipe poked out from the mass. Wires wound in and out of every crevasse like a crow had been making a nest without worrying too much about attracting a Mrs. Crow.

There was a solitary panel that was an oasis of order among the rest of the rats nest. It was a plain steel square that was bolted down over a mess of cables with a single, large, red button on it. Ginny had hung a sign on the button: 'Absolutely Never, under any Circumstances, Do not even THINK of, even if You REALLY want to, just DO NOT PUSH'.

"So," he asked. "What does it do?"

"_Still _No Idea." said Hermione.

"Should we pushed the button and see what happens?" asked Ron.

"Read the sign, Ron." said Hermione. "And anyway, there's no power source."

"Don't you just plug it in?" asked Ron, who had been getting familiar with muggle technology over the past few weeks. Hermione was very proud of the fact that he could now work a washer and dryer, and program the clock on a microwave.

"If it was electric, yes. We could do that." said Hermione. "But this machine runs on magic. The schematics don't show what the power source is, just that the power feeds in through..." she looked about the machine and eventually pointed to a series of jumper cable clamps on the far side, "...those."

"So," Ron cast around, "we clamp them on to a unicorn or something?"

"Don't be preposterous." said Hermione. "We haven't got a unicorn."

"Oh, yeah." said Ron, disappointed.

~o!o~

Hermione hurried along the corridor to the Grand Gallery of the ship. She wasn't sure where her co-conspirators were, but sooner or later, they were bound to pass through there. She came out onto the third level balcony of the Grand Gallery and looked out on the room.

She could see other students walking along the other balconies that lined the walls. Thirty feet below her, a few people were meandering on the main floor.

She heard the rumbling of many running feet. On the main floor, she saw Draco bolting across the gallery. There was a small crowd of Slytherins chasing after him. Draco tripped in the middle of the hall and fell to the ground. Before he could get up, the Slytherins were on him and all around him. They were punching, kicking and hexing whatever part of him they could reach.

Hermione pulled out her wand and aimed a Miasma Curse, but before she could let fly with a fog of damnation, someone grabbed her hand. It was Draco, with Fred and George at the railing.

"Now it gets good." said George, looking down at the maul.

Hermione couldn't say with much certainty, but all the Slytherins seemed...shorter? They all stopped fighting and started shifting around on the spot. They all began crying for help when the realized they were sinking into the carpet. They all struggled, but the floor beneath them had taken on the consistency of quicksand and was drawing them to the bottom. Eventually, they were all just a lot of heads on the ground, cursing loudly. Hermione heard a crackling sound, and imagined that meant that the floor was re-solidifying.

"It's the old Lure-a-gang-of-Slytherins-into-a-trap-with-fake-Dr aco-and-turn-the-ground-to-quicksand-then-turn-it- back-and-trap-the-buggers trick." said George.

"Also known as The Percy Special." said Fred.

"That is brilliant." conceded Hermione. "I'm glad I found you; I have good news."

"Is the Machine working?" asked Draco.

"Well, not working," said Hermione, "but we have..."

And then she passed out.

~o!o~

Hermione looked around. There was nothing here. No light. No shadows. She couldn't feel the air when she waved her hand around. She felt neither heat nor cold. She couldn't feel the weight of her own body as she stood. She knew she was standing. She was also aware she was standing on something that felt suspiciously like nothing.

"Alright," she said. "You have my undivided attention."

"Hermione." said Calypso. "Everything is going to be all right."

"I don't know how to power that machine." said Hermione. "And I'm still kind of foggy on what it does."

"Everything is going to be alright." said Calypso. "I will show you what to do."

~o!o~

Hermione jack-knifed up in her bed in the infirmary. She had seen it. She still wasn't entirely sure what it was, but by God, she had seen it.

"Ah, your awake." said Madame Pomfrey, bustling over. "You passed out. You've been asleep for nearly four hours. It's too late at night now to be wandering the halls. You should probably stay the night for observation. I'll just -"

And that's when Hermione stunned her.

~o!o~

"Draco!" said Hermione. "Draco, wake up!"

Draco's eyes snapped open and he sat up.

"Hermione!" he said. "Are you alright?"

"Sure, sure." she said dismissively.

Once his concern had dissipated, confusion set in.

"What are you doing in the boys dorm?" he asked. "In Gryffindor house? The doors wouldn't have let you through, you're a Ravenclaw."

"The doors are gone." she said. "Listen, I know how to power the machine."

"_Gone_?" said Draco.

"Yes, we need to get Fred and George. Ginny can probably help too. Harry can-"

"_Gone_?"

"Focus, Draco! Just get the Twins and Ginny and meet me in the clubhouse."

~o!o~

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the clubhouse around the mystery machine. Hermione had fetched Harry, Ron, and Marcus from their houses.

"I still can't believe you blew up the doors." said Marcus. "Mother is going to have a conniption fit."

"When I past out I saw Calypso in a dream." explained Hermione. "I know how to activate the machine and how it can eliminate the Butterfly Threat."

"Did it show you how to blow the doors off our house?" asked Fred.

"And can you show us?" asked George.

"Later." snapped Hermione. "Right now, there's one last thing we need to steal."

"Name it." said Fred.

"We're going to steal the ship." said Hermione.

They were stunned silent at this. Harry, still delirious with sleep, spoke first.

"I dun fink we haf room for it in 'ere."


	20. Damn The Torpedoes and Full Speed Ahead

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 9: Damn The Torpedoes and Full Speed Ahead**

_"I'm givin' 'er all she's got Cap'n!"_

* * *

><p>Dumbledore rolled over in his bed. This wasn't to get comfy, his entire suite had tilted and he rolled clear off his bed. He hit the ground with a brittle thud and continued snoring gently.<p>

From his perch, Fawkes the phoenix gave a sad shake of his head. He flew over to Dumbledore's slumbering body and perched on him. He gave Dumbledore an appraising look, the stuck his tongue in the ancient professor's ear.

"Oh, Gellert..." said Dumbledore, still sleeping, "your such a tease."

Fawkes gave him a peck.

"Oh!" said Dumbledore, sitting up. Fawkes was dislodged and fluttered to the dresser.

"Fawkes?" asked Dumbledore. "What happened? Why am I snuggled on a rug?"

To answer his question, the ship pitched again. Dumbledore got shakily to his feet and lurched around the room while the floor stabilized.

"What is going on?" Dumbledore asked, struggling to the porthole. He looked outside in time to see a wave coming at him.

~o!o~

Dumbledore raced along the corridors, the tails of his bathrobe flying behind him. His fluffy bunny bed slippers slapping against the floor.

"Albus!" cried Professor McGonagall, running up from her chambers in her tartan gown and hairnet. "What's going on?"

"No Idea, Minerva." said Dumbledore. "I'm going to the forward lounge for a better view."

They ran into the forward lounge and gaped at what they saw in the panoramic window. They saw a sky of roiling black clouds as far as the eye could see. The waves crashing against the ship could not be measured in feet. Dead Ahead, they could dimly see the lights of a city.

"We're in a storm." said Snape, walking into the lounge. He was followed by Sprout an Flitwick.

"How is that possible?" said McGonagall. "The captain is supposed to be able to see storms forming anywhere in the world and a week in advance."

"Then we'll ask him what happened." said Dumbledore as he turned and walked out.

~o!o~

The four heads and head master walked up to the bridge. The door to the bridge had been reinforced at the head master's behest. The amount of damage Fred and George could inflict behind a wheel of a bumper car was bad enough, there was no way they were getting in here.

Dumbledore buzzed the captain on the intercom.

"Captain Teidahl-Wafe?" he spoke into the intercom. "Why have we-"

"Hello Professor Dumbledore." the voice coming out of the intercom was not Captain Teidahl-Wafe. It sounded like the voice of some animal that could use the English language. The sound of someone effectively disguising their voice.

"We Are The Knights Of Octarine Lightning." they heard over the intercom. "A Branch Of The House Elf Liberation Front. We Demand Equal Rights For All Magical Creatures. To Further Our Political Ends, We Have Hijacked Your Ship So That Wizard Kind Will Acknowledge The Plight Of Our Magical Brethren."

The Teachers listened in fearful wonder. They had been hijacked by terrorists. Their students were at the mercy of madmen. And what was 'Octarine'?

"We Have, In The Bridge, Over A Dozen Of Our Operatives, As Well As Two Students..."

_Oh, please_, thought Dumbledore, _don't let it be-_

"Harry Potter"

Crap.

"And Draco Malfoy."

Double Crap. It didn't inspire much confidence in the good guys if you couldn't protect the people who defect from the other team.

"If Any Attempt Is Made To Break Into The Bridge, We Will Kill One Of The Hostages."

The intercom went quiet. The professors were left to exchange horrified glances.

~o!o~

Marcus was standing at the helm of the HMS Hogwarts. He consulted the map on the nearest console. They were on a collision course with the Thames Estuary. In another few minutes, they would be close enough to hear Big Ben.

Behind him, Hermione was at the door to the bridge, speaking into the intercom.

"...Kill One Of The Hostages." she finished, switching off the intercom.

"Will We Be Able To Make It Through The Storm?" she asked Marcus.

"There's no danger of capsizing, and it shouldn't slow us down to much." said Marcus. "Now, could you please disenchant your voice?"

"Ooops," she tapped her throat with her wand. "Sorry." her voice was back to normal. "Does it look like we can make it close enough?"

Ron looked over from the chart he was consulting. "We should be able to make it within forty-five miles of the London city center before the Thames becomes too shallow."

"There's no maritime traffic in the way." said Harry, binoculars trained on the course in front of them. "Everyone must have stayed docked because of the storm."

"Good," said Hermione. "Ron and Draco should be in position soon, so just-well, keep doing what your doing."

"Yes, Captain." said Harry. "I'll just be poised and ready to kill myself if anyone tries to break in."

~o!o~

"And...Heave!" cried Ron.

Together, he and Draco hauled the machine over the last step onto the Sky Deck. The Sky Deck was an open air deck that was on the very top of the ship. It was normally used for Astronomy Lessons.

While Ron disentangled the Jumper cables, Draco laid Hermione's suitcase flat on the ground and opened it. Fred's head popped out.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Sure, pass out Goyle." said Draco.

Fred went backed inside the suitcase. After a moment, a bound and gagged Gregory Goyle was shoved out of the suitcase and fell down on the floor of the deck. Draco and Ron hooked the struggling Goyle up to the machine. Goyle's love handles were the perfect mount for the jumper cable clamps.

"Ok," said Ron, looking at the big red button. "We're all set."

"You know," said Draco, "if this doesn't work, we're all going to be arrested, tried, and imprisoned for life."

"I'll tell them you weren't here." said Ron.

"I'll tell them it was all Goyle's idea." said Draco.

"Hmph?" said Goyle.

Ron pushed the button.

The machine gave a haunting, unearthly wail; beautiful, terrible, and loud. Very loud.

~o!o~

Cynthia was standing on the roof of her London Office Building. She had abandoned her office in favor of coming onto the roof to hex all the butterflies she could reach.

"_Egratia!_" she yelled. Black spheres shot out of her wand and engulfed some of the butterflies. The sphere collapsed down to the size of a mustard seed. The spell couldn't hold them and the butterflies blossomed out of the seed like an explosion.

"_Folgurei!" _she yelled. A cloud of butterflies crystallized in mid air. The Crystalls broke into shards and turned into more butterflies.

"_Abbadon!" _she yelled. A shock wave ripped through the air with a sound like a G# on an electric guitar. Hundreds of butterflies exploded into indivisible pieces, which then turned into more butterflies.

"It's like the Hydra." said Diego coming up from the stairs behind her. "You cut off one head and three more grow back.

"_Perestroika!_" Cynthia yelled. A cloud of butterflies was frozen solid. They fell a few feet before thawing themselves out.

"It's no use." said Diego.

"We don't know that." said Cynthia, turning to him. "We won't know until we try every single curse. Something has to work! _Pangur Ban!_"

The immediate crowd of butterflies turned white. They turned back to fiery red. The effect was like a watercolor firework.

"I am certain that with continued application we will discover a solution." said Diego. "And I'm also certain that shooting curses off into the sky in the wee hours of dawn will be a damning infraction of the International Statute of Secrecy."

"You can't even see your own front walk out of your sitting room window the butterflies are so thick." said Cynthia. "I could conjure up purple dragons with impunity. And now the swarm has settled over London. If this city burns then we might as well put our heads between..our..."

She was distracted by the sight of tens of millions of butterflies rushing past her in the same direction like crimson wind.

"They seem to be relocating!" yelled Diego. The multitude of butterflies moving in concert was creating a deafening wind they had to shout over.

"That doesn't make sense!" Cynthia yelled back. "They're flying East! There's nothing there but the Thames Estuary!"

~o!o~

Cynthia and Diego apparated onto the shores of Allhallow. Here was where the Thames emptied into the English Channel.

The whole estuary was flooded with an haunting wail. Waves were crashing on the shore in force and the sky was a twisting mass of dark clouds.

"Why would the butterflies be coming here?" Cynthia asked as she looked up to the swarm that was flying overhead. "Why would they fly towards a storm?"

"That might have something to do with it." said Diego, pointing across the mouth of the river.

The HMS Hogwarts was drifting in the estuary. The swarm of butterflies were circling directly overhead like vultures. Small pretty vultures.

"My Mother instincts are telling me Marcus has something to do with this." said Cynthia.

~o!o~

"What's the status topside?" said Hermione into the two-way mirror.

"It looks like the entire swarm has come down on us." came Ron's voice from the mirror. Ordinary mirrors show you what you look like. These mirrors show you someone else, somewhere else.

"Great," said Hermione, "we can go out to the open ocean before-"

There was a crack, and Cynthia was standing on the bridge, glaring at her son with an intensity that should have caused all his blood to spontaneously coagulate.

"Mother -" Marcus started.

He was interrupted when three more cracks announced the arrival of Dumbledore, Snape, and Madame Pomfrey Apparated into the bridge.

"But," said Hermione, shocked, "you can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds."

"That's very true." said Cynthia, not removing her glare from her rapidly paling son. "This, however, is Hogwarts _Ship._ It's impossible to put an anti-Disapparation charm on something that moves constantly."

"Oh," said Hermione, deflating.

"Do not be discouraged Ms. Granger." said Dumbledore. "I forgot about that, too."

"She stunned me!" said Madame Pomfrey, pointing an accusing finger at Hermione.

Cynthia broke her gaze from Marcus to give a look of shock to Hermione.

"Ms. Granger," said Dumbledore, speaking gently to a trembling Hermione. "We all know you. You are studious, level headed, and fair. You have always been a kind and gentle person. Therefore, we will suspend judgement on this incursion until you can tell your side of the story."

All the adults looked to Hermione. All the students, who knew the story, wondered if Cynthia would give them a head start.

"Well," she said taking a shuddering breath. "It started when I heard this voice..."

Dumbledore's comforting smile fell off his face.

~o!o~

Ten minutes later, after hearing Hermione's explanation, they were all convened on the Sky Deck. The sea was still jostling the ship around, the sky didn't look any friendlier, and the butterflies continued to orbit the ship.

Cynthia was contemplating the wailing machine. Vincent Crabbe was hooked up to the machine. Goyle was lying a few feet away, unconscious. Probably drained dry.

Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be found. Hermione's suitcase was lying innocently on the deck.

The Fifth House were being lectured by their respective heads over the wail of the machine.

"I cannot tell you how unwise it was to listen to a disembodied voice." Flitwick told Hermione.

"What were you thinking constructing a machine when you didn't know what it did?" McGonagall told Draco.

"Stealing a ship is a complete abrogation of the trust we have in our students." Sprout told Harry.

"This is the kind of foolishness I expect from Gryffindors." Snape told Ron and Marcus.

"Has been An utter shame..."

"...after The ministry swoops down and..."

"...right to the bottom of..."

"...really about as useful as..."

"...you can kiss your..."

"It's the end of your..."

"...swayed by Ms. Granger's womanly wiles..."

"...never going to find a lawyer that will..."

"...two dozen grapefruits..."

"Running around with a nice cup of tea..."

"...entire hull with a toothbrush..."

"...as Richard Nixon said after the tapes were edited..."

"...likely to have your wand inserted up your -"

"Enough!" said Cynthia over the din.

All the teachers, including Dumbledore, looked up at her.

"As illegal as all this was," she said, "we can't deny that they now have a degree of control over the swarm. We have to use this opportunity. Now, as batty as Hermione is,"

"Hey!"

"she's managed to make a mechanized pied pipper. Dumbledore, I am taking over the ship."

"I cannot allow you to put my students at risk." said Dumbledore. His tone made it clear that any disagreement would lead to a duel.

"We can have it both ways." said Cynthia. "Load all the students on the lifeboats and take them to the Shore. Diego will coordinate with the ministry to get them to their homes. I will take the ship out to the ocean and -"

She paused. She really had no clue after that.

"I know what to do." said Hermione. "Calypso told me."

Cynthia hesitated. Hermione's teachers had just been lecturing her for obeying an unseen voice. Cynthia was about to obey the same voice vicariously.

"Tell me what it told you." said Cynthia, finally.

"Take me with you." said Hermione.

"Ms. Granger," said Dumbledore, "you are not going to..."

"Deal." said Cynthia.

"You cannot take one of my students into-"

"We don't have a choice." said Cynthia. "She's our only conduit to Calypso and one of the only people who knows how this machine works."

Dumbledore stood firm, unmoved by her argument.

"I'll let you stay with her." Cynthia bartered. "Those butterflies have been setting fires all over Britain. There are more of them everyday. At this rate she won't be any safer on shore than she will be at sea."

Dumbledore was quiet for another second, then he turned to his staff.

"Teachers." he said. "We are evacuating Hogwarts. Lead all your students to their life boats. Poppy, tell the house elves to abandon ship."

"Looks like Lockhart's ahead of the game." said Marcus, pointing out over the water.

They all turned to see Gilderoy Lockhart paddling a lifeboat to shore. He kept shooting the swarm above the ship terrified glances.

"I get the sneaking suspicion he's not as qualified as he lead us to believe." said Marcus.

~o!o~

"You couldn't have made these any more ergonomic?" asked Cynthia as Hermione attached the last jumper cable to her forearm. She had volunteered to power the machine after Crabbe had been ferried to safety.

"Sorry," said Hermione, trying to ease the clamp closed. "It was what we had."

"You did very well." said Cynthia. The both paused to listen to the machine's wail. It was still working fine. "How is the evacuation coming?"

Hermione ran over to the railing and looked out over the estuary. The last of the lifeboats were arriving on the shore. She looked through a set of binoculars she had brought up from her suite.

"It looks like they've all arrived safely." she said. "I can see Ministry wizards getting things in order. It looks like some parents have already arrived. McGonagall is signaling me. 'Everyone Accounted For'."

"Very good," said Cynthia. "Go to the bridge and tell Dumbledore we can leave. Take the ship where Calypso told you."

Hermione ran off to the bridge.

~o!o~

Down in the Grand Gallery a suitcase came shuffling out from under a couch, moving on its own. After it was clear of the couch, the lid flew open. Ron's head popped out. He looked around.

"We're clear." he said. He climbed out of the suit case. He was followed by Marcus, Draco, and Harry. In the confusion of the evacuation, they had hidden away in Marcus's bottomless suitcase. Marcus shut the case and picked it up. They all broke into a run for the Forward lounge.

"Are you sure Fred, George, and Ginny made it out?" asked Ron.

"I handed Hermione's suitcase over to Lee Jordan myself." said Draco. "I impressed upon him very strongly that there were people inside."

"We're going to be in so much trouble." said Marcus.

"Yeah," said Draco. "But after all that time we spent working on that thing I'll be damned if we miss this."

~o!o~

From her perch in the library, Madame Pince heard the alarms going off and people running everywhere. She knew this day was coming. She had seen it coming when someone had used the term 'students' and 'ship' in the same sentence. She marched to the dead center of the library.

"_Pietor Bibliothequa!"_ she incanted.

Hundreds of miles away in Auchencrow, an empty building was suddenly filled with books and one irritated librarian.

~o!o~

A few hours went by without incident. They were well into the North Sea. Hermione stood in the Bridge watching the storm outside.

"Ms. Granger." said Dumbledore from his seat at the helm. "I would have hoped that you would trust your teachers enough to tell them you were hearing voices. Normally, that's not a good sign."

"I'm sorry Professor." she said. "When I came into this, the wizarding world, everything I though was normal changed. I've been trying so hard to take it all in stride, I don't know when I've crossed the line. What's strange and what isn't?"

"When next you have a doubt, you can ask me." said Dumbledore. "I would tell you to confide in your friends, but I suspect that they're already the wrong color of crazy."

Hermione laughed at this. Then the ship gave a jarring lurch.

~o!o~

"Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!" yelled Cynthia. The ship was being jarred in a way that had nothing to do with the storm. The machine was shifting around the sky deck like a puck on ice. For the life of her she couldn't stabilize it. She couldn't use any spells to help her for fear that she'd overload the machine to which she was hooked up. If this thing went over the side there was no way to control the swarm.

Suddenly, the machine stopped sliding. Cynthia heaved a sigh of relief.

"I knew we should have bolted it down." said Harry.

Cynthia jerked her head around the side of the Machine. She saw Marcus and Draco braced up against the side. She looked around the other side and saw Ron and Harry Holding the machine in place.

"I really don't know why I bother." she said, smiling sadly. "I should just have you all manacled."

Dumbledore and Hermine ran up the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" said a startled Dumbledore.

While Draco spun an elaborate story about a drowning first year, a leaky hull, and a walrus, Hermione went to look over the railing.

What she saw made her skin crawl. Things were scaling the hull of the ship. Small gray spiky things. There were thousands of them. When one anchored itself to the hull another one used it as a step.

"Are those...?" she daren't ask.

Marcus looked over the railing. "Crabs!" he cried. "Thousands of Crabs!"

They kept scaling the ship. There wasn't an inch of the hull that they weren't clawing their way up. The collective weight of all the crustaceans was pulling the ship lower in the water.

Eventually, the most ambitious crab made it's way on to the Sky Deck. It made a beeline for the wailing machine.

"Are these crabs under Calypso's control?" Harry asked.

"If I had to guess," said Cynthia, watching as the crab stopped in front of her, "is that the crabs are Calypso."

"How is that possible?" asked Ron.

"I think these crabs are a lot like the butterflies." said Cynthia. "There are many crabs..."

"...and one mind." finished Hermione. "One crab in many bodies."

More crabs scuttled onto the Sky Deck. They all attached themselves to the wailing machine. More and more until it was covered in a thick shell. Cynthia inched as far away from them as possible while she was still tethered to the machine.

Little bolts of lighting jumped between the crabs on the machine. The wailing grew louder, deafening.

"It seems," said Cynthia, taking the clamps off, "that Calypso is using her own magic to power the machine."

"What do we do now?" asked Draco.

Cynthia gave a humorless laugh. "We run!" she said.

A few minutes of hard running later they found a panel of the hull that didn't have crabs. Dumbledore and Cynthia ripped it off the side and brought it on deck. With a little transfiguration, they had it looking like a mighty fine gondola.

"All aboard." said Dumbledore.

They all scrambled in.

"All together now!" said Cynthia.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ they all chanted.

The gondola was lifted effortlessly into the air. Cynthia propelled it away from the HMS Hogwarts.

Hermione had never seen Cynthia do so much spellwork at the same time. Hermione had only ever seen Cynthia use wandless magic before. She noticed that Cynthia had an odd way of brandishing your wand. Most people held their wand out like a sword or a conductor's baton. Cynthia held her wand like an overhand dagger. Her spells were cast with stabbing motions. This brutish form was in stark contrast to her normally ladylike behavior.

Once they were a hundred meters away they stopped to watch events unfold.

The HMS Hogwarts couldn't stand the extra weight of the Calypso Crabs. They could hear the groaning of metal and cracking sounds that would be very worrying if they were still on board.

The ship made a steady descent into the water. The Phoenix Butterflies followed the ship down. Like the rats following the Pied Piper into the river Weser.

Eventually, the only visible part of the ship was the Sky Deck. The swarm was hovering mere feet above reach of the waves.

Then a crab jumped up out of the water. It snagged a butterfly in one of its claws and dragged it down. That was when the floodgates opened. The crabs all jumped out of the water in force. It was like it was raining upside down.

They grabbed at the hypnotized butterflies. The wizards watched as the swarm was reduced with merciless efficiency.

Eventually, there was only one butterfly left. It turned into ash that fell into the waves.

Cynthia piloted the boat back to the island of Britain while the HMS Hogwarts finished its descent to the bottom of the sea.


	21. Dry Land

****Book 2: Hermione Granger and The Butterfly Threat****

**Chapter 10: Dry Land.**

_"On the journey of life one hopes not to make progress too quickly."_

* * *

><p>Cynthia looked into a large mirror hanging from the wall. Dr. Laurel was staring at her out of it. He was wearing a large, downy parka.<p>

"We've set up everything we need in the lab." he said. "Vostok is ready to begin further experiments with the Belfast Apparatus."

"Good," said Cynthia. "Begin immediately. You can move on to more substantial animals. Now that the butterfly threat has been eliminated we need not waste time creating magic chameleons."

"Perhaps," said a shivering Dr. Laurel. "This is a sign that we're meddling with things that mere mortals should not tamper with."

Cynthia gave him a look clearly expressing that _she _was something _he _better not tamper with.

"We can begin splicing the Belfast Apparatus into goats." he recovered quickly. "Once that is a success we can move on to more substantial animals."

"Very well," said Cynthia, "do not let me detain you."

The mirror reverted back to showing her reflection.

~o!o~

The Fifth House was watching BBC World Service in Cynthia's London penthouse. They were showing a skyline that was blissfully free of butterflies. They interviewed a few know-it-all scientists that posited rational explanations for why the swarm disappeared. None of them were magic related.

Their was no report of a cruise ship going down. There was a side note that the arsons that had been plaguing Britain seemed to have ceased.

Hermione got up from her place on the sofa and walked over to the window. Cynthia had brought them all their personally, bypassing any questioning ministry officials. Dumbledore had gone off immediately to coordinate the students at Allhallows. After she had settled the children in, Cynthia had gone after him to help iron matters out. She had left Raleigh in charge.

Raleigh was snuggled up on Marcus's lap sleeping soundly. Hermione paced back and forth in front of the window. Harry watched for a while and got up to stand by her.

"Is something bothering you, Hermione?" he asked.

"We sunk the ship." said Hermione in a hollow voice.

"Calypso sunk the ship." corrected Harry.

"Last year we blew up Hogwarts and this year we sunk it." Hermione continued. "If there was still a Hogwarts we'll be expelled from it."

"There will always be a Hogwarts." said Marcus. "Hogwarts isn't classrooms and labs and walls and tables and chalkboards; That's what Hogwarts needs. Hogwarts is people passing on their knowledge to better the next generation. As long as we have willing teachers and eager minds, there will always be a Hogwarts."

"Well said." said Cynthia, walking in. "In answer, to your panicked concerns, none of you are getting expelled from the temporarily non-existent school. The Ministry is so thrilled to be rid of the killer butterflies they're not really concerned about the ship sinking. The ship actually belonged to me so it doesn't really cost them a lead knut."

"Oh," said Hermione. After all Cynthia had done for her, she had repaid that kindness with a titanic disaster. "How much do we owe you?"

"I'll bill you." said Cynthia. "And I'll garnish Marcus's allowance."

"Yes, Mother." said Marcus, not bothering to put up a fuss.

"We may have also kidnapped some Slytherins." said Draco.

"Well, after Misters Crabbe and Goyle woke up and the rest were dumped out of the suitcase they didn't remember much." Cynthia said as she twirled her wand. "I can't think why."

"One thing I don't get," said Ron, "I didn't even know what a circuit was until Marcus explained it. Hermione had to explain it again to me later. I spent two hours looking up stuff in the muggle studies section of the library before I knew what they were talking about."

"You looked something up?" asked Draco.

"You went to the library without me?" asked Hermione.

"My point is," said Ron, his ears turning red, "how did a bunch of crabs on the ocean floor know how to build a working machine with technology wizards don't even know how to use?"

"Very good question, Ron." said Cynthia, "The answer is in what we don't know. We have no idea how old Calypso is; we've never even seen that species before. We might never again. We also don't know to what degree they can communicate telepathically. It's plausible that Calypso has been watching humanity for hundreds of years and learning about us. The individual crabs' brains might be as tightly connected as neurons in the human brain. That would give it an intelligence greater than any human's."

"So, a super genius crab made a computer after someone dropped a text book off a tugboat." said Draco.

"Succinctly put." said Cynthia. "Of course, it is only a guess. If I had all the answers I'd be a god, not a business woman."

Diego walked in carrying a copy of the Evening Prophet.

"The evening report is out," he said handing the paper to Cynthia. "We made the front page."

"Thank you." said Cynthia. "I lost a ship today and the real mess is going to be cleaning up PR fallout." she sat herself down and started reading.

Diego went over to the couch and gathered up Marcus in a hug. Marcus looked like he was squeezing as hard as he could. He hadn't so much as furrowed his eyebrows during the whole ordeal, but in the safety of his brother's arms he could show this vulnerability.

Diego reached out and hugged Draco next. Draco was surprised and confused by the sudden display of affection. Eventually, he returned the embrace.

"Well, this is terrific." said Cynthia. "A wizard supremacy group is on the rise."

"Helmut Rohr." said Hermione. "I read about him. I can't believe people actually subscribe to that kind of ignorance."

"It's not ignorance." said Cynthia. "They want power and their getting it in an effective and methodical manner. And this isn't Germany's Helmut Rohr. It's Maximilian Blanchard, a French National."

"Another one?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Cynthia, "and not the last."

"When did we get this?" said Harry, pointing at a golden cup on one of the bookshelves. It had a badger engraved on it. It stuck out in the house as the only frivolous decoration. Cynthia wasn't big on ornaments.

"It came to us shortly before you left." said Cynthia. "It has some magical application I can't figure out."

Harry reached out and picked it up. It started glowing brightly. The light left the cup and ran up Harry's arm, then soaked into his body.

They all looked at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When nothing happened, Harry checked over his body and weighed the cup in his hand carefully.

"What just happened?" Harry asked.

Cynthia turned back to her newspaper.

"Among other things," she said, "the cup just became unimportant."

* * *

><p>End Book 2<p> 


	22. Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

The Fifth House is entering its third year at Hogwarts. In the current political climes, Britain has become an unsafe place for anyone identifying as or sympathizing with muggle-borns. Ron and his friends are going to have to learn to defend themselves against the coming darkness.

**Chapter 1: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner**

_"Guests should be like Haley's comet: seen rarely for a short while."_

* * *

><p>Ron Weasley was sitting on a green knoll in the fields behind the burrow. He was reading some letters he had gotten from his friends. If you wanted to find a place quiet enough to read, getting as far away as you could from Fred and George's room was a good place to start.<p>

The first one was from Hermione:

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm sorry I won't be able to see you before September first. I had hoped to go to Diagon Alley with the Montefiores, but Cynthia had my supplies for this year sent to my house early. She said I shouldn't be in public right now. The Daily Prophet said that hazing muggles is on the rise in Britain. Maybe she thinks I'll be attacked. Hopefully, one day I'll be as powerful as Cynthia is and no one will mess with me._

_I'm glad to hear that your brother, Bill, is visiting. I hope you two have fun catching up. Being a curse breaker for Gringotts sounds like an adventure. Not that we need any more of those right now. Marcus and I still have a ways to go before we can buy Cynthia a new cruise ship._

_I can't wait for the school year to start. I've been busy memorizing some of the potion formulas. I'm having trouble remembering the properties of dandelions. They have 107 uses. Who knew?_

_Can't wait to see you._

_Love from Hermione_

Hermione Granger was Ron's Ravenclaw friend and fellow member of the Fifth House. The Fifth House was a band of misfits that had drawn together to cause no end of trouble. Their conquests so far involved blowing up Hogwarts Castle their first year and Sinking the HMS Hogwarts their second.

The second letter was from another member of the Fifth House, Harry Potter:

_Ron,_

_Cynthia is taking us to visit your family tomorrow! Draco can't wait to see Ginny and the Twins. He hasn't seen them since we sunk Hogwarts. He's been bouncing around with excitement. Marcus has been threatening to hex him into paralysis. Marcus is excited to see you, but you know Marcus. He looks the same excited as he does asleep._

_Cynthia is letting us bring some quidditch equipment so we can play in the pasture. I've gotten better at flying. I can stay on the broom for a whole 8 seconds._

Someone, probably Marcus, had written in the margin: _Half that time is spent in a death spiral._

_See you soon,_

_Harry_

Ron was looking forward to seeing them. Harry and Draco lived with Marcus's family, the Montefiores. Harry's parents had died in a very huge and rather mysterious explosion when he was a baby. The explosion had also killed the most dangerous dark wizard of all time. Draco had stabbed the same wizard in the face, making him the target of some of his parents friends. He had gone to live with the Montefiores for his safety.

His mother, Molly Weasley, had been scrubbing the house tirelessly since she had gotten a card saying: "Chairwoman Cynthia Montefiore wishes to call on you at your convenience." She had written back saying that they were available on Saturday, tomorrow. She had made sure everyones best clothes were clean and ready and told Fred and George in no uncertain terms that they were to be on their best, most nonexplosive behavior.

His father, Arthur, was ecstatic to see Cynthia. The Guild, which she chaired, was actively supportive of his muggle protection initiatives.

"Give it over!" Ron heard from above him. He looked up to see Bill and George on broomsticks wrestling over a quaffle. They were spinning out of control through the air. Their trajectory changed so dramatically that Ron didn't have time to roll out of the way. They both crashed into him on the ground. Ron heard a sickening snap coming from the pocket he kept his wand in.

~o!o~

Ron sat on the front wall of the Burrow, looking for another beetle. After his wand had snapped, his mother had used spell-o-tape to fasten the two halves back together. It wasn't performing up to its usual specs. He'd been testing it out by transfiguring the beetles into buttons. So far, he'd only managed to transfigure beetles into beetles that were on fire.

His wand had always been substandard. It had been Charlie's wand before him. When he first got it three years ago he was so excited that he could use magic. He didn't even mind that the unicorn hair was poking out the end. As the school year went on, he noticed his wand wasn't very...cooperative. Like it...didn't understand him. He thought it would be solved by more practice. He didn't want to tell anyone he thought his wand was arguing with him.

He heard a crack coming from down the road. He looked up from the garden to see a group of people, mostly children, running up to meet him. The first was Harry Potter, unruly black hair barely concealing a lightning bolt on his forehead. Harry was Ron's friend in Hufflepuff. Ron grabbed him in a hug.

"Hey, Harry." he said.

"Hi Ron." he said.

The second had short, pin straight black hair, with pale skin: Marcus Montefiore, Ron's fellow Slytherin.

"Hey, Marcus." said Ron. "What's that on your face?"

"Nothing," he said. "I'm just really ugly." It was hard to tell when Marcus was joking. His face was forever blank. Nevertheless, Ron knew he was excited to see him.

"Hey, Ron." said the last boy. He was Pale with white blond hair: Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy had been sorted into Gryffindor the same day that Ron had been sorted into Slytherin.

A short child with Tawny Red hair jumped onto the wall beside him.

"Hi!" he said, grinning.

"Hey Raleigh." said Ron, tousling his hair. Raleigh, Marcus's younger brother, smiled as often as his brother didn't.

The next person to come up was Marcus's older brother, Diego. In spite of his height and muscle, Diego was kind and gentle; a living giant teddy bear. Marcus always talked about how awesome his brother was. The one drawback was Diego made you feel ugly just by standing to close to you. This wasn't intentional, he was just unfairly handsome. Hermione's eyes would glaze over every time she saw him. Harry would become a little _preoccupied_ if Diego was nearby. Ron had to admit, he also caught himself staring sometimes.

"It's good to see you again, Ron." he said, shaking Ron's hand.

"How are you?" Ron asked him.

"Fair, fair," Diego said. "Guild work has been keeping us busy. There's an emerging market in flying carpets. We want to get on that."

"Hello, Ron." said a gentle voice. The last person in the group was Cynthia Montefiore. She was the Chairwoman of the Guild: the series of companies that spanned every wizarding economy and was based in dozens of countries. She was a muggle-born and was in Slytherin house like he was. She looked out of place in the burrow. She was wearing a sleek white sun dress, free of any extra pleats, bows, or decorations. Her hair was kept at barely an inch long and flat on her scalp. Her style was as utilitarian as a battle ax. However, her plain dress couldn't downplay her beauty. If Cynthia wasn't his best friends mother, Ron would probably stare at her a lot more.

"Hello, Chairwoman Montefiore." said Molly Weasley, running out of the house.

"It's nice to see you Mrs. Weasley." said Cynthia, taking Molly's hand. "I'm glad you could make time for us. My sons missed your family."

Cynthia didn't bother making the distinction between Marcus, her actual son, and Harry and Draco, who were just living with her.

"Please come in." said Molly, beckoning her inside.

Cynthia looked down at the garden she was about to step into. She transfigured her heels into wellingtons and walked on in.

"Hello, Chairwoman." said Arthur. "How are things going with the new Hogwarts location?"

"We're nearly done." Cynthia said, walking into the kitchen. "The details are classified, of course."

"Yes, I didn't mean to pry." said Arthur as they sat down at the table.

"The castle's nearly fixed?" asked Fred. He was sitting in the adjoining living room with George and Ginny.

"I can't tell you." said Cynthia. "The details of Hogwarts are a high security secret this year, what with all the goings on."

"Pureblood supremacists have become more malicious lately." said Arthur. "Just yesterday I had to wipe the memories of a whole bookstore when a dozen ashwinders were released in the reference section. The poor librarian got third degree burns before the mediwitches got to her."

"Why are they doing this now?" asked Ginny.

"It was the Butterflies." said Cynthia. "a large swarm of magical creatures was squatting on Britain for a year. They set fires to several major cities. People died. The Muggles are a hairsbreadth away from noticing something is up. Our hidden world risks exposure."

"They want to expose wizards?" asked a shocked George.

"The ultimate goal of the pureblood supremacists is for wizard kind to come out of hiding and take their rightful place as rulers of the world." said Cynthia. "When they're not tormenting muggles, they're tormenting mudbloods and blood traitors." The Weasleys all bristled at the word 'mudblood'. Since Cynthia herself was a muggle-born, she could use the nasty term with impunity. "Many of the students fall into those categories. We're taking extra precautions for everyone's safety. I've also been instructed to make the structure Twin proof."

They all looked over to Fred and George, who looked quite pleased with their notoriety.

"So, Ron." said Cynthia. "Exactly why are your trousers on fire?"

Ron looked down suddenly and saw that there was smoke emanating from his back pocket. He reached back and pulled out his wand. The tip was pouring out gray smoke.

"Let me see your wand." said Cynthia, holding out her hand.

Ron handed her the smoking wand. Cynthia rolled it in her fingers, spun it a few times, and gave it a wave.

"This wand has lead a good full life." she said. "_Avis._"

A feather burst out of the tip.

"This wand is useless." she said. That's when the spell-o-tape started melting off.

~o!o~

The rest of the day was spent with the children playing quidditch with the supplies Cynthia had brought while the adults talked about boring things like international cauldron standards. Ron had a ball being able to use a faster broom. His old Cleansweep was outpaced by most houseflies. The low-impact bludgers caused such minimal damage that Fred could beat them off with his bare hands. They had let Raleigh and Harry be the seekers. Neither of them could stay airborne for more than a few minutes, so the game went on until the snitch got tired and had to sit down. After dinner, everyone was pretty exhausted. Raleigh was asleep on Diego's lap.

As the sun set, Harry, Draco, Marcus, and Ron were standing by the pond, skipping rocks across. Marcus's stones always made it across the lake.

"You're using magic!" Harry accused.

"Just wandless magic." said Marcus.

"You can do that already?" asked Ron.

"It's not very effective." Marcus qualified. "I can't move anything bigger than a paperweight. Mother can make her desk fly across the room."

"I'm going to have to start using wandless magic." said Ron. "We can't really afford a new wand for me right now."

"I'll cover you when we go to school." said Marcus. Ron knew he didn't mean lending him the wand for assignments. Marcus and Ron were both bloodtraitors in a house of purebloods. Day to day life at Hogwarts was an ongoing war. If he didn't have a wand when school started, he'd be vulnerable to attack.

~o!o~

"Thank you again for having us." said Cynthia as they were leaving.

"It was our pleasure." said Molly. "We'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it." said Cynthia. "and Ron?"

"Yes?" he said.

"Let me see your wand hand." she said.

Ron held out his right hand to her. She placed a small silver coin in his palm. The coin glowed electric blue and Ron felt a tingling feeling all over his body. Cynthia took the coin back.

"Much easier," she said, "than messing about with a tape measure."

Ron watched them walk out of the garden and Disapparate, wondering what she was talking about.


	23. The Superconductor Wand

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 2: The Superconductor Wand**

_"Ampere is equal to the Voltage divided by Resistance in Ohms."_

* * *

><p>"Do you have all the books on the list?" asked Diego.<p>

"Yes," said Ron, coming out of a row of shelves in the Flourish and Blotts. His arms were full of books. "We all do." he indicated his brothers and sister.

"Then we must make haste." said Diego, and the ushered them out of the shop.

Cynthia was waiting at the entrance. She was faced outward, into the Alley, like a guard standing vigil.

They had been hurrying through Diagon Alley. They had only visited the Apothecary to stock up on potion supplies and to Flourish and Blotts to get their new school books. Arthur and Molly had been looking around nervously the whole time, like they were expecting to be attacked. Cynthia always stayed in front of the party and Diego brought up the rear. Raleigh was firmly ensconced between Harry and Marcus.

This all seemed a bit paranoid to Ron. Who would attack them in the middle of a crowded alley in broad daylight?

In answer to his question, a wizard with long brown hair in a satin robe came to stand directly in Cynthia's path. Their party stopped suddenly. Several other wizards came to stand beside him.

Ron, sensing a fight, decided to go with the Ol' Slytherin Maneuver: run away. However, when he turned around he saw Diego was faced with a group of wizards covering the way they came. They looked just as mean and scary as the wizards in front.

"Good afternoon, gentleman." said Cynthia, her gentle smile in place. "What can I do for you?"

"You filthy mudblood." said the satin robed wizard. "You think your so special with your company and your wealth. You got that money by stealing our knowledge. The magic we have perfected for thousands of years has no business being used by a muggle. We all know" he extended his arms to indicate the other wizards "that you'd be nothing without your money and sycophants." The other wizards laughed and jeered. Cynthia just remained smiling.

"If that's all you wanted," said Cynthia, "then we'll just be on our way."

As she took a step forward, the satin robed wizard drew his wand.

"_Reducto!_" he yelled.

Marcus launched himself in front of his mother. She pushed him back behind her. The curse hit Cynthia square in the chest and...nothing happened.

She stood there, the only visible effect of the curse was that now she was scowling. The wizards in front of her looked flummoxed. Arthur and Molly looked quite surprised themselves.

Cynthia drew her wand. While most wizards held their wand like a baton, Cynthia held hers like an overhand dagger. She looked like she was about to get in a knife fight wearing a power suit.

"Close your eyes, sweetie." said Cynthia. "Mommy's about to open a can of whoop-ass."

All the wizards, both in front and behind, began throwing curses at their party. Cynthia and Diego threw up shimmering blue shields that absorbed the curses. Cynthia threw her hands out and her shield moved like a tidal wave and engulfed the wizards on her end. They were all blown back by her spell. She stamped her foot down on the pavement and spikes erupted from the ground around her foes. The spikes ripped through the robes of the wizards. As the spikes continued to grow straight up they carried the entangled wizards with them. In the end they were all hanging from 20 foot tall spires. They looked like flags waiving on long poles. Cynthia gave another stab and all their wands fell to earth.

The Weasleys all stared at her open mouthed. Ron turned back to see how Diego had faired. The wizards on his end were paralyzed in various contortions of pain.

"Can I open my eyes now?" asked Raleigh.

"Let's wait until we get home." said Cynthia.

Marcus picked Raleigh up and followed Cynthia through the forest of spikes as the wizards waved helplessly at the top. After a moment of hesitation, The Weasleys followed quickly behind her.

~o!o~

Ron walked through one of the meadows behind the Burrow. It was too depressing inside the house. After they had returned from Diagon Alley and the Montefiores had left for home, Molly made herself a strong cup of coffee and Arthur had busied himself with a transistor radio. Percy and the twins had gone directly to their rooms and not made a sound all day. It was par for the course for Percy, but disturbing behavior for the twins. Ginny, who thought watching the duel was awesome, had begun composing a blow by blow to send to her friends in Gryffindor.

Ron wondered idly if the fight would be in the evening prophet: Guild Chairwoman Attacks a Helpless Crowd of Racists. The fact that they attacked her didn't make them any less helpless. It just made them stupid.

He stopped to sit down on one of the boulders by the creek. It was a good thing that Hogwarts was going to be so secure this year. He didn't think he could handle a crowd of attackers like Cynthia or Diego had. Then he reminded himself that he was in Slytherin and he would have to fight off attackers every day. Without a wand.

"Bugger!" he screamed, kicking at a rock in front of him. It sailed across the creek and was caught by Cynthia, standing at the far bank.

"Where did you come from?" he asked shocked. He thought she'd gone home.

"I was born in Brazil." she replied. "My family moved to England when I was nine."

"That's not what I meant." said Ron, as he jumped across the stones to reach her side of the creek.

"I came back because I have a delivery to make." she pulled a long thin box out of her blazer and handed it to him. "This is for you."

"Thank you." he said automatically.

He took the box and flipped the lid open. It was a wand. It wasn't like any wand he'd seen before. This wand was made of metal. The main body was a bronze color and it had a thin silver strip spiraling up the side like a candy cane stripe. He picked it up and gave it a wave. A glowing red flame shot out of the end and he felt a sensation like it was becoming part of him; getting to know him.

"What is it?" he asked, awed.

"It's your new wand." Cynthia answered. "Your old one had a Synchro rate of 5% after it was broken. It probably could only manage a Synchro rate of 20% before that. This wand has a Synchro rate of 65%."

Ron looked at her with an uncomprehending stare.

"Synchro rate means how much of your magic it can channel." she clarified. "Right now you can produce 700 thaums of magic at any given time. So -"

"What's a thaum?" Ron interrupted.

"It's the unit we use to measure magic." answered Cynthia. "Like we use meters to measure distance and degrees to measure temperature. One thaum is the amount of magic needed to pull a rabbit out of a hat. Your old wand could only use 140 thaums maximum for each spell, but now..."

She trailed off as she saw a glazed expression. Time for a change of tact.

"You know that you can use magic without a wand if your talented?" she asked.

"Yes." said Ron. "Marcus and Hermione use it to cheat at rock skipping."

"But that kind of magic is unfocused." said Cynthia. "You can't really do much with it. Your wand channels your power into specific spells. These spells are more powerful and more complex. The difference between these two categories is the same as between a sled and a car."

"However, when wands were first developed, we didn't know much about the world around us and had limited supplies to work with. The first wands were made with wood and the essence of a powerful magical creature to channel magic. It worked pretty well and hasn't changed much since then. But now, we can use some of the magic the muggles have taught us."

"Muggles did what now?" asked Ron. This explanation was just causing more questions.

"While we sat back and relaxed on our superiority, the muggles were curious and explored the universe. They broke down things into their tiniest indivisible particles: atoms. They found distinct elements and have worked tirelessly to find all their attributes: electrical conductivity, melting points, chemical reactions, practical applications, combustion. They can use their knowledge to create an explosion big enough to level a whole city."

"They can do that?" asked Ron, who had never known muggles could be so scary.

"They've only done it twice so far." said Cynthia. "We're all pretty sure they'll do it again. But back on topic: The Guild used their superior knowledge of elements and designed a Superconductor Wand that would channel energy better than a stick with a hair in it. For example: your wand's main shaft is made of copper, the spiral is zinc, and the core is ruby."

"Ruby?" asked Ron, and he held the wand very delicately. He had never even held a fake diamond.

"Yes." said Cynthia. "A very long, thin ruby."

"How much is this worth?" he asked, frightened. "What if I break it?"

"You'd have an easier time breaking the boulder we're standing on." she answered. "Don't worry about it."

"So," he said holding the wand aloft, "This wand is way more powerful."

"Don't take my word for it." she said with a mischievous smile. "Give it a try."

Ron pointed at a cascade of boulders. Swish and flick. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The boulders, all of them, at least 40, many of them weighing as much as a car, began floating though the air like thistle down.

"This is amazing!" said Ron. "I can't wait to -" then he fell down.

He lay flat on his back on the soft dirt of the bank, panting like he'd just run a mile. He heard the rocks falling all over the creek. Cynthia crouched down and leaned over him.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like I just picked them all up myself." he gasped out.

"That is to be expected." she said. "With the sweet comes the sour. This wand uses more energy so you tire more faster."

"You could have told me that." he said.

"It's better to learn it this way." she said.

He had to admit, he'd certainly never forget it.

"You will develop more stamina with practice." she reassured him. "There is one more thing you should be warned about."

"It's going to melt my hand off?" he asked.

"No," she thought for a second, "though I advise against putting it in your front pocket. This wand will make you more powerful, but it won't make you more skillful. If you had trouble with summoning charms with your old wand, you will still have trouble with summoning charms, but once you master summoning with practice you'll be able to summon a rhinoceros through a steel wall."

"Thank you," he said again, thinking back to his broken wand. "I didn't know what I was going to do with that useless..." something occurred to him.

"That coin you gave me." he said. "Was that how you measured me for the wand?"

"Very astute, Ron." answered Cynthia. "Superconductor wands are very particular. You need a special combination of metals and gems for different wizards." Cynthia got up.

"I have to return home." she said. "Draco and Harry are making dinner. I'll have to make sure I have my antidotes stocked."

"Before you go," Ron asked, "could you drop me off at the house?"

"You can't be that tired." chided Cynthia. "It was just..."

She looked back down to see Ron snoring gently.

"I can see this is going to be an uphill battle." she said.


	24. Same Problems in a Different Hogwarts

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 3: Same Problems in a Different Hogwarts**

_"The more things change, the more they stay the same."_

* * *

><p>The Weasley family stepped through the barrier between Kings Cross Station and Platform 9 ¾. The Twins walked off to find their friend Lee Jordan. Percy went off to find his friend, Cedric Diggory. Ron and Ginny were left looking around for the other members of the Fifth House.<p>

"Ron!" he heard a voice calling from down the platform. He turned to see Hermione Granger running down the platform to see him. Her brown bushy mane was flowing out behind her. It seemed more flowing and shiny than he remembered. Probably because the last time he saw her they were on a sinking ship.

She gave him a hug. Ron wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt very warm. It wasn't an unpleasant experience, but he had not encountered the sensation before in his life. When she released him to hug Ginny, the warmth seemed to evaporate.

"Have you seen the others?" she asked them.

"No," Ron answered. "The last time I saw them, Cynthia was nailing purebloods to the ceiling."

"I read about that!" said Hermione. "Is it true she conjured up a pack of hungry polar bears?"

"While I'm sure she _can _do that," said Ron, "I think that might be the Daily Prophet fudging the facts."

"There should really be a competing news source so they can't get away with that." said Hermione.

"There is!" said a wide eyed blond girl. "The Quibbler! My dad is the editor."

She held up a magazine. It was opened to a picture of Cynthia Montefiore ridding a flying shark into a crowd of Death Eaters, dressed in pink.

"Yes, well," said Hermione, realizing that more news sources just meant they would try to top each other. "Ron, this is Luna Lovegood. She's in Ravenclaw."

"Pleased to meet you." said Ron. "Do you have a copy of that? My roommate would just love it."

"Do you know where the Hogwarts Express even is?" asked Hermione.

It was then that Ron noticed that the tracks were empty. They all walked to the edge of the platform and looked down the line.

"I see something coming." said Ginny, squinting at the distant tracks. "But I don't think it's our train."

"Who else's train could it be?" said Marcus from behind them.

"Marcus!" said Hermione, turning to hug him.

Draco and Harry were close behind him, and she greeted them both in turn. Harry kept his arm around her shoulders when his hug was over. Ron felt another foreign burn in his chest.

They were all distracted by a thrumming sound approaching from down the tracks. Everyone turned to see a train pulling up to the platform. Ginny was right. It wasn't the Hogwarts Express. This train was a series of black boxy cars with no windows. There were no windows.

"It's a subway tram." said Hermione.

The doors on all the cars opened and people stated piling in. Before he got on, Ron went to say goodbye to his parents.

"Write us if you need anything." said Molly, hugging him.

"Let us know what the new Hogwarts looks like." said Arthur.

The inside of the train was not compartments like the Hogwarts Express. It was just rows of benches along the sides with racks overhead to hold their trunks. Marcus, Harry, and Hermione with their bottomless suitcases could just slip their luggage under their seats. Draco and Harry helped Ron move his cumbersome trunk up on the rack.

When Ron took his seat, he noticed Hermione had a content, far away expression. Marcus leaned over to him and whispered.

"She jumped to the front of the line when Diego was kissing us goodbye."

Ron felt the burn again. It was accompanied by a sudden desire to push Diego onto the train tracks. Stupid, handsome, bastard. He quickly felt ashamed of himself. Marcus's brother had only ever been kind to him.

The train began moving. Not having a window to look out of was a little disconcerting. For all Ron knew, they could be driving over a cliff... into an ocean... full of spiders.

"You sure you don't have any idea where Hogwarts is?" Ron asked Marcus.

"No clue." said Marcus. "I don't really care."

"How can you not care?" asked Draco. "You always love being prepared."

"I have enough equipment in my suitcase for any eventuality." he quipped.

"Really?" asked Harry. "What if we're underwater?"

"I've packed my floaties." said Marcus.

"What if it's in a volcano?" asked Hermione.

"I've packed a base fan." said Marcus.

"What if we're in the Himalayas?" asked Draco.

"I've packed long underwear." said Marcus.

"What if it's on the surface of the sun?" asked Luna.

"I've packed sunblock." said Marcus.

For the next half hour, they continued suggesting ever more absurd places where class could be held, when the train suddenly halted. Ron reflexively looked out where a window should be. The doors of the tram opened up. All the students piled out of the train, leaving their luggage behind for the house elves.

Ron stepped out onto a gray concrete platform. He looked around to see if anything was familiar, but the platform was completely closed in. They were surrounded on all sides by thick solid rock walls. The tram was flush with the border of the platform, so he couldn't see what was beyond the exits.

"I think we're underground." said Hermione, holding onto his arm.

There was a door set into the opposite wall. It resembled one of the bank vaults at Gringotts. It opened smoothly to reveal Professor Snape.

"Everyone inside," he said, "don't dawdle."

The mass of students all followed behind him. As Ron stepped through the blast door he found himself inside a tunnel. The tunnel had an arched ceiling. It made Ron feel as if he was walking down a gigantic pipe. Lamps were placed at even intervals along the sides of the tunnel. There were bands of color on the ceiling of the tunnel. The yellow one was labeled 'PLATFORM' and had arrows pointing the opposite way they were going. The red one was labeled 'GREAT HALL' and had arrows pointing the way they were walking. There were various other bands marked with labels like 'DORMITORIES' and 'CHARMS'. It occurred to Ron that the entire complex must be a series of underground tunnels. It worried Ron that he had no idea how far underground they were or what they were underneath.

The Fifth house walked side by side down the wide corridor. They stepped through a large archway and came out into a round, domed hall. The ceiling of the hall was enchanted to look like the sky that must have been far above them. The blue was tinged with the red of the coming sunset. There were eight long tables that spoked out from the center of the hall. Each table was decorated with a house colors. Hermione pulled away from him and sat down at the nearest Ravenclaw table. She held onto her seat like she was worried about floating away. Ron and Marcus walked one table over to the Slytherin table. Theodore Nott nodded 'hello' to them. Blaise Zabini ignored them entirely. The rest of their house mates greeted them with scowls.

The first years were herded into a line in front of the sorting hat. While the sorting was going on, Ron turned to Marcus.

"Why do you think they decided to put us underground?" Ron asked.

"It looks like a replica of the Nuclear bunkers under London." said Marcus. "You know what a Nuclear Weapon is, correct?"

"Yeah." said Ron. It was the only muggle machine that every wizard knew about. If the muggles wanted to, they could literally destroy everything.

"Well, If one goes off we won't even notice while we're down here." said Marcus. "And any dark wizards that want to attack us are out of luck. They wouldn't even know where to attack. I don't even know where we are."

"But why all this extra security?" asked Ron. "How badly do they want us dead?"

"Specifically, what they want is-"

"Welcome," said Dumbledore, cutting Marcus off. "First, There are some staff changes this year. Professor Lockhart is currently being investigated for fraud by the Ministry of Magic, and after our ministry is done with him, there are other ministries filing extradition orders."

There were cheers from all corners of the halls.

"Please welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor: Remus Lupin." said Dumbledore, applauding.

A man in patched robes stood up and took a small bow.

"I am pleased to welcome you all to the most secure version of Hogwarts ever conceived." Dumbledore, continued. "The complex is utterly impregnable. The corridors are charmed to immediately warn any teachers about the use of inappropriate magic. With minutes of anyone jinxing anyone else between classes every professor will know who cast the spell. Points will be deducted and detentions will be handed out. Each teacher has a map,"

He pulled out a roll of parchment and unfurled it to show the students. Ron could see what he assumed was a map of the Hogwarts underground. The arrangement of the classrooms and corridors reminded him of a starfish with the great hall in the center. The Great Hall had a massive cluster of dots in various colors.

"This map shows the position of every person in Hogwarts at all times. We will always know where you are and who you are with. You will not get away with anything."

He seemed to be facing the closer of the Gryffindor tables. Fred and George looked like Dumbledore had just sentenced them to death by immurement.

"This will also alert us to intruders and any breaches in security. That being said, let the feast begin!"

~o!o~

The feast was over and Everyone had retired to their dormitories. The four houses were all in the same wing. Each house was guarded by a selectively permeable wall. If you were a Slytherin, then the Slytherin wall would let you walk right through the wall like a ghost. If you were a Hufflepuff, you'd just bounce off the concrete.

The Third Year Slytherin Dormitory was a bare concrete room with bunk beds and a few dressers. The entire setting seemed calculated to break ones spirit. Then again, this could just be Cynthia's idea of interior design. Marcus had actually commented on how much it reminded him of home.

Ron and Marcus were sitting on their bottom bunk looking over a chess board. They were evenly matched. Ron was very good at chess and Marcus was very good at cheating.

"Are things really so bad that we need to have school in a nuclear bunker? Knight to A5" asked Ron.

"Getting worse all the time. Bishop to E1." said Marcus. "Pureblood Supremacy societies like we have in Germany and France have organized in Hong Kong and America."

In recent months, Pureblood Supremacy movements in Europe had been campaigning for wizards to have an increased level of control over muggle governments. They wanted ministry offices for controlling things like construction of muggle cities and controlling the population by manipulating the health care system. The scariest thing was, they were getting a lot of support.

"What's that got to do with Hogwarts? Queen to E7" asked Ron.

"They all want to come out of hiding, but they won't dare do it until there's no chance they can be beaten back." said Marcus. "They're waiting for a savior to lead them to victory. A wizard no one would dare stand against. Pawn to A4."

"You-Know-Who?" asked Ron.

"You mean _Voldemort_?" asked Marcus. Ron cringed at the name. Ron and Draco had been brought up in proper wizarding families where He Who Must Not Be Named was not named. Hermione had not been raised with such fear, Marcus wasn't afraid, and Harry was the Boy Who Lived.

"I am honestly not sure how the two are related," continued Marcus, "but Helmut Rohr, the leader of the German Pureblood Supremacy movement has offered a reward for the delivery of Harry Potter, alive. King to C4."

Ron looked up, flabbergasted.

"What does he want Harry for?" he asked.

"No idea. But I'll bet my back teeth that it's related to Harry being the one to defeat Voldemort twelve years ago." said Marcus.

"Does Harry know?" asked Ron.

"Yes." said Marcus. "Mother told us all. He was very proud of how high the reward was."

"What was it?" asked Ron, seized by morbid curiosity.

"Five thousand Galleons." said Marcus.

"...h?" asked Ron. He had never even seen anything that cost five thousand Galleons. He had a very hard time imagining what five thousand Galleons even looked like. If five thousand Galleons walked by his bed just now, he wouldn't know what it was.

"On the plus side, everyone has completely forgotten Draco and the face stabbing incident." said Marcus.

"People are going to be dive tackling Harry in the hallway." said Ron. "I wouldn't even put it past Fred and George to try and cash in on that."

"You don't mean that." said Marcus.

"Well, they probably wouldn't, but I'm still mulling it over." They shared a laugh at this. Everyone knew Slytherins were greedy bastards.

"Even if they did capture Harry, it's as hard to escape from the compound as it is to break in, and the bounty is only good if he's alive." said Marcus. "Cynthia also gave Harry one of these."

Marcus pulled his wand out of his sleeve. It was silver with a gray spiral running down the side in a familiar candy cane pattern.

"She gave you one two?" asked Ron, pulling out his own Superconductor Wand. In retrospect, it was obvious that she would. She was his mother.

"Yes," said Marcus, "Aluminum with a Tungsten spiral and a sapphire core. She also gave one to Hermione and Draco."

"She gave a Gryffindor something that dangerous?" Ron asked raising his eyebrow. Everyone knew Gryffindors were reckless.

"We'll make sure we always stand behind him." said Marcus.

~o!o~

September came and went without any incidents. Everyone slid easily back into their old classes. Hermione slid right to the front, as usual.

The biggest difference in their schedule was the addition of Arithmancy. Last year, they were given the option to add classes to their schedule. The previous year they had made a machine that pied pipered a swarm of butterflies, and Cynthia had assured them that Arithmancy was more of the same. They were all sold.

So far it had just been math, but Professor Vector had promised them that by the end of the year they'd be able to mathematically predict the winner of the Quidditch World Cup. They were also using a type of muggle magic where you turn money into more money. It was called investing.

Right now, it was mid-October, and the Professors were advancing the curriculum. Ron was struggling to turn his toucan into a chalice.

"_Feraverto!"_ he incanted. The toucan remained obstinately toucan-shaped.

"_Feraverto!" _he tried, focusing harder. The toucan began preening.

Cynthia had been right. The wand didn't make magic any easier, it was just more powerful when you learned the spell. His scouring charm had left the floor of the Charms classroom positively reflective. However, this was Transfiguration. Transfiguration was all about skill.

"_Feraverto!"_ Ron tried again. The toucan cocked its head, wondering if it should be doing something.

"Try keeping your wrist bent." said Draco, who's parrot had turned into a goblet with winged handles.

Ron adjusted his posture and tried again.

"_Feraverto!" _he said. The toucan turned into a chalice. To Ron's satisfaction, he had even managed to give it a clawed handle.

"Thanks." said Ron. They were done with classwork and could now turn their attention to more mundane matters.

"Fred and George aren't doing so well." said Draco. "This place is getting to them. Every prank they try one of the Professors is waiting outside in the hall. They can't even enchant objects anymore without setting off an alarm. They aren't taking it well. They have this dead look in their eyes. Fred's hair is starting to loose color. George's freckles are disappearing."

This was worrying. They had always joked that the twins would die if they couldn't cause mischief. Apparently, they wouldn't die. They'd just slowly starve to death.

"I could sit on a whoopee cushion if that would help them." Marcus volunteered.

They were let out of class and Marcus, Ron, and Draco ran to the library so they could find the books they needed so they could get a good seat in the Great Hall. This was the new trend in Hogwarts Underground. The Great Hall was one of the few places that got artificial sunlight. The other place was the greenhouse. If you squinted just right you could pretend you were in a park. As a result, Professor Sprout had become the most popular teacher in school.

Directly outside the library doors, they ran into Hermione and Harry. Hermione was leaned into Harry's side, looking haggard. Living underground had a very negative effect on Hermione, as it had on so many students. She was agitated all the time. She had become unfocused in her studies. She would just stare into nothing until someone brought her back. The other members of the Fifth House resolved to never leave her on he own.

Harry was walking her back from the joint Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Astronomy class. Even though Ron knew Harry's arm around her waist was probably just a protective gesture, he couldn't entirely suppress a pulsing burn in his chest.

Dumbledore walked out of the library, interrupting Ron's introspection.

"This is happy coincidence." said Dumbledore, smiling. "I thought I'd have to walk up and down the school to find all of you. Could you all join me in my office?"

Dumbledore's office was the same bland concrete as the rest of the school, but in an act of rebellion he had draped pink and lilac fabric all over the walls. There was an enchanted window behind his desk that looked like a window looking out onto the grounds of Hogwarts Castle in Scotland.

"I have grave news." he said to them, sitting in his chair. "Last night, some nefarious wizards broke into a Guild office in an attempt to find the location of Hogwarts."

"Do they know where we are?" asked Draco.

"No." said Dumbledore smiling. "They stole a dummy file that will lead them on a wild goose chase to the South China Sea. Never underestimate Cynthia's capacity to mess with people. However, we must prepare for the day when they do find this compound.

"I've been made aware that you have been given powerful new wands."

Ron's hand moved to his wand.

"That is correct." said Marcus. "There are no legal restrictions as to what kind of wand you can own."

"That is very true." said Dumbledore. "Your mother said that exact same thing when I suggested giving students something that dangerous was unwise."

"I trust Mother's judgement." said Harry.

"For the most part, so do I." said Dumbledore. "However, even she could not deny there were certain drawbacks to the new equipment. I am speaking of the incident in Defense Against The Dark Arts where Mr. Malfoy caused a boggart to explode."

Draco shifted his weight, looking bashful.

"Cynthia has suggested an agreeable solution to the two problems we face." said Dumbledore. "She is sending an instructor to teach you all to duel, so you will have a better understanding of your wands and the ability to defend yourselves."

"We're going to learn to duel?" said an excited Ron.

"For the purpose of defense." said Dumbledore in no uncertain terms. "The Slytherins are not to wage war with the Gryffindors."

"We would never attack the Gryffindors." said Marcus.

"No promises." said Draco.

"Your instructor will arrive every Friday evening and you will practice with him through the weekend." said Dumbledore. There was a knock at the door to his office. "Ah, that's him now."

The door slid open to reveal Diego Montefiore.

"Diego!" Harry, Draco, and Marcus cried. They all ran up to hug him. It was a bleak forecast for Hermione's condition that she didn't even stand up when he came in.

"You're going to teach us to duel?" asked Ron.

"Defend yourselves." clarified Diego. "We're going to meet in the Charms classroom tomorrow morning at seven. Kindly wear something you don't mind being destroyed."

~o!o~

"Which one of your Christmas sweaters are you going to wear?" asked Marcus as he and Ron walked back to the dormitories.

"The red one with the snake." said Ron.

"The snake that looks like a badger?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, that one." said Ron. "What are they doing?"

They had come upon Fred and George who were running their fingers along the walls of the corridor.

"Good question." said Marcus. He walked up to George and tapped him on the shoulder. "George, what in the name of the Great A'Tuin are you doing?"

"We're trying to find secret passageways." said George. "Like they had in Hogwarts That Was."

"George," Ron said, putting a comforting hand on his brothers shoulder, "there aren't any secret passageways here. You saw the map. All the corridors are straight lines. All the rooms are perfect squares. It was personally designed by Cynthia."

"Mother does hate impractical additions." said Marcus, and he cast a spell to summon a teacher.

"There has to be." said Fred. "There just has to be."

Shortly, Professor McGonagall came around and escorted the distraught twins to the infirmary.

"Draco was right." said Ron as they continued back to the dormitories. "They are loosing it."

"They'll learn to channel their frustration into Potions." said Marcus.

"You're lucky you only have two brothers." said Ron. "I have five brothers, and I don't know how I'm going to live up to the standards they set. Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Bill made Head Boy. Fred and George once turned Professor Snape's hair pink."

"That's impressive." said Marcus. "You can climb to the top of a different field. You only have five brothers and there are a thousand different career paths. I'm sure you'll find your place."

"Thanks." said Ron. Marcus may not be big on facial expressions, but his matter of fact explanations could be strangely comforting.

"And you miscounted." said Marcus. "I have four brothers."

Ron thought about this. He had only mentioned Diego and Raleigh, but...

"Well, Harry and Draco aren't really your brothers." said Ron. "Their just kind of … well, _adopted_."

"So?" asked Marcus. "I was adopted."

"Eh?" said Ron, stopping suddenly. This was news to him.

"Diego was adopted a few years before me." Marcus continued. "Raleigh a few years after I was."

"You never told me this." said Ron, indignant. Marcus was his best friend. They never kept anything from each other.

"You never asked." said Marcus.

"It doesn't normally come up in conversation. I never told you how I was born." said Ron.

"There's no question you're a blood Weasley." said Marcus. "You never noticed I don't resemble my family members?"

Now that he looked back, They all had black hair except for Raleigh's tawny red. None of them had the same eye color. Cynthia and Raleigh were darker than Diego and Marcus. Diego had entirely different dimensions from the rest of them. Finally, Ron noticed with some embarrassment, Marcus had never mentioned having a father.

"Shortly after Voldemort disappeared the first time, Cynthia was consulting for the Macedonian ministry. They had just elected their first muggle-born minister and had been receiving threats from a group of radical purebloods. Diego was only twelve and they strapped a bomb to him and forced him to walk into the ministry building. The charm that ignited the bomb tapped into his magic for energy, so Cynthia had to stab him through the chest to disarm the bomb."

Ron felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

"After they got the bomb off of him, Cynthia nursed him back to health and he's been with her ever since.

"A few years later, she was in Siberia for the construction of the Russian Floo network. The project remains the largest the world has ever seen, spanning seven time zones and going through more than two and a half million fire places. The Guild was the only organization that could pull it off. While she was in Moscow, a family of purebloods attacked the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in retaliation for a muggle-born Auror incarcerating one of them for a hate crime. The family members that survived the siege were thrown in prison for life. The family matriarch brought her young son into prison with her, proudly declaring that he was part of the cause and they would all be rewarded one day for their loyalty to the blood."

"That was you? The son?" asked Ron.

"Yes." answered Marcus. "Cynthia marched into the prison that afternoon and hexed the stupid right out of them. I've been living with her ever since."

"That's why you can speak Russian and wear shorts in the winter." said Ron, putting two and two together.

"So, what about Raleigh?" Ron asked.

Marcus didn't answer.

"We don't talk about that." said Marcus, eventually.

When they turned in for the night, Ron lay awake wondering what had happened to that happy, smiling Raleigh that was worse than being stabbed or thrown in prison.

~o!o~

Saturday morning began as it usually did. At 5:30, The wards around Ron's bed went off, alerting Ron to Gregory Goyle's attempt to sneak an adder into Ron's bed. By 5:32, Goyle was in a full body bind on the dorm floor. At 5:45, Ron and Marcus were showering in the bathrooms. Crabbe shot an ice charm into the shower. By 5:55, Marcus and Ron were dressed and on their way to their dueling lesson while Crabbe was hanging upside down from the dorm ceiling with nothing to protect his modesty but everyone else's resistance to looking at him.

The Slytherin house was about as amicable as the Israeli/Palestinian border. The past two years had sharpened their survival skills. As their defensive skills advanced, the other Slytherins had been advancing their attack strategies. This arms race had caused the Slytherin house to routinely outperform all the other houses in the Charms examination.

They waited outside of the Ravenclaw wall until Hermione came out. They all walked down towards the Charms classroom. They had been allotted that room for practice because it was more heavily reinforced against errant spells.

They entered to find Diego was already there. He was kneeling on the floor with his eyes shut, meditating. Ron and Hermione hung back, but Marcus walked up to sit beside him. As he leaned against Diego's side, Diego wrapped his arm around Marcus's shoulder.

Ron felt very moved by this. It really didn't matter at all where they came from. They were brothers through and through.

Harry and Draco came in a few minutes later.

"Good morning class." said Diego, getting up from the floor. "For the rest of the year, we will be learning to duel on the weekends, but I encourage you to practice during the week."

Ron suddenly felt the legs get knocked out from underneath him. He fell back onto the floor and the wind was knocked out of him. As he tried to re-inflate his lungs he saw Diego lean over him.

"The first thing we learn," said Diego, "is how to take a fall."

Twelve hours later, they were stumbling out of the Charms room. Hermione was supported between Ron and Harry. Marcus, who was more used to this, was leading a dazed Draco, who had been an only child and never had an older brother to beat him up. They were allowed to get dinner, clean themselves off, and get a blissful eight hours of sleep before they resumed on Sunday morning.

In spite of the bruises and exhaustion, this was the most fun they'd had since term had started. They were all ecstatic.


	25. Desperation

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 4: Desperation**

_"If all you have is nothing you'll settle for anything."_

* * *

><p>In one of the grand bedrooms of Malfoy Manor, three wizards were standing over a baby's crib. One of them was Lucius Malfoy, the current owner of the mansion. He kept sending furtive glances to the two wizards standing on either side of him as well as trying not to look into the crib.<p>

The one on his right had carefully trimmed hair and beard and a small set of spectacles balanced precisely on the bridge of his nose. This was Maximilian Blanchard, leader of the French Pureblood Supremacy Movement. The one on his left had no hair on his head and features that looked like they were chiseled from stone. This was Helmut Rohr, head of the German Pureblood Supremacy Movement. He was the one who had brought the contents of the crib.

"Gentleman," rasped a voice coming from the crib, "it is a pleasure to be among friends again."

"It is we who are honored to see you." said Blanchard. "We have long awaited the Wizard who would lead us out of hiding."

"Do not fret." rasped the voice. "The promised time is close at hand. Lucius, what progress are we making on my recovery?"

"The potion is ready." said Lucius, nervously. "We have secured the skeleton you requested. We are progressing on a plan to have the flesh you wanted. We are still unable to find Hogwarts."

"Ah, yes." rasped the voice. "It does move around a lot these days. Still, I have faith in your abilities and influence. Especially since your son's life is on the line."

Lucius flinched. Since his son, Draco, had stabbed the Dark Lord in the face. Lucius was cooperating to secure his son's exoneration.

"I will not fail you my lord." said Lucius. "We have contracted the students in Slytherin to assist us in their apprehension. The five thousand Galleon reward secures a great deal of loyalty to the cause."

"It's a great justice that all Dumbledore's ranting about the power of love will be torn asunder by simple economics." the voice rasped gleefully.

"In the meantime," said Helmut, "we are going to be sending a sign to the wizards of Britain. Something to rally the purebloods and put fear in our enemies."

~o!o~

By late November, the Fifth House had improved their falling down skills. Ron could now fall ten feet head down and bounce right back.

The most exciting thing they learned was the Redirection Technique. It was dueling style endemic to Thailand and virtually unknown in Europe. The magic in a wizards body moved along channels like blood flowing in the veins. The Thai people had learned to move the magic in the channels so effectively that they could absorb a curse into their body, move the malignant spell along the channel and eject it from their body without sustaining any damage to themselves. So far, Ron was able to absorb most hexes and eject them through the bottom of his feat. Draco was a natural at it and could absorb a jinx through one arm and fire it back through the other. The effect was particularly flashy when using a Firework charm.

Once they had shown proficiency in that technique, Diego had moved them on to types of shield spells. Their new field of study had distracted them from the fact that they were perpetually imprisoned in a concrete crypt.

The rest of Hogwarts was also adjusting to the new environment. To combat the boredom the students had turned to the Hogwarts clubs. The Gobstones club had an up-tick in popularity. An Exploding Snap league had formed; the Arithmancy students had heartily enjoyed this. Some of the more creative students had designed their own games. A group of Ravenclaw students had designed a table tennis game where the ball would randomly change size and speed.

None of these new options had appealed to the twins or Hermione, who were still loosing their grip. Hermione had gotten into the habit of chewing her finger nails. This hadn't worried them until her hands started bleeding. The twins were a different animal.

Ron and Marcus were coming back from a meeting of the chess club and found the floor outside the Transfiguration room was covered in small, transparent marbles. Ron bent down and picked one up. It was almost perfectly transparent. They were nearly invisible on the floor. Nearly.

Emma walked down the hall behind them. Emma was one of the three caretakers. The other two were Emma and Emma. Emma didn't even pause her stride when she came up on the marbles. She waved her wand and they all vanished.

As she walked on, Ron heard quiet sobbing coming from inside the door of the Transfiguration classroom. He pushed the door open. Fred and George were slumped against the wall, weeping openly. They must have thought simple transfiguration was the perfect loophole to the hallway magic moratorium. Making those little marbles so flawlessly see-through must have taken hours.

They lead the two distraught pranksters to the Great Hall. They'd feel better after they'd eaten something.

When they arrived, the Great Hall was buzzing with nervous activity. Students were clustered together, whispering loudly. Professors Snape and McGonagall were talking animatedly with increasingly frantic hand gestures. Head Master Dumbledore was sitting very rigidly in his seat, like he was braced for impact.

Ron and Marcus steered Fred and George to where Draco was sitting at the closer of the two Gryffindor tables.

As they approached, Draco looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet and leaped up when he saw the crying twins.

"What happened to them?" he asked, guiding George into a seat.

"Their prank failed." said Ron sitting Fred down.

"What's going on in here?" asked Marcus, as they put food in front of the twins.

"Pureblood Supremacists published a manifesto in the Daily Prophet." said Draco, handing the paper to Marcus.

Marcus read over it.

"This is weird." he said finally.

"What? Why?" said Draco.

"It's talking about how wizards should take control of muggle governance." said Marcus, reading the manifesto again.

"That's not strange." said Ron. "That's what they've always wanted."

"This manifesto is talking about improving ecological stability and universal health care." said Marcus. "They're laying out plans to take control of muggle Britain and universally improve their quality of life. It's actually very well thought out."

"So they're presenting their ideas as 'For The Greater Good'." said Draco. "That was Grindelwald's rallying cry."

"Yes, but Voldemort was never that sweet." said Marcus. "His rallying cry was 'Kill Everybody'. He wasn't much of a politician."

"So, You-Know-Who got a PR agent?" said Ron.

"More like improving his strategy." said Draco. "When Gellert Grindelwald came to power he controlled a puppet muggle government. They were called the Nasties. He used them to control most of Europe until Dumbledore brought him down."

"The Nazis, Draco." said Marcus. "They were called the Nazis. And in addition to subjugating Europe, they killed eleven million people and plunged the entire planet into the second world war. Ironically, the conflict led to the invention of the atom bomb: the only muggle invention wizarding kind fears."

"You're telling me You-Know-Who's new plan could lead to world war three?" asked Ron, suddenly very glad they were deep underground.

"In a few years," said Marcus, holding up the article, "we'll look back and say 'We were there the day he put in the thin end of the wedge.'

~o!o~

Dumbledore looked up from his desk as he heard a knock at his door. The door slid open when he waved his hand, revealing Ron Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore said, managing a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, sir," said Ron, wringing his hands behind his back, "Hermione isn't doing so well, what with being underground for so long and that manifesto just being published."

"I heard you and her other friends have been taking care of her as best you can." said Dumbledore. "You are a very good friend."

"Thank you, sir." said Ron. "But we can't do much for her, having different class schedules."

"I see." said Dumbledore. "I imagine you've contrived a solution to this?"

"I figure," said Ron, "since we all have the same classes, you could let Hermione take classes with the Slytherins so Marcus and I could keep a closer eye on her."

Dumbledore smiled warmly at him. He spent most of his time combating the spread of irrational hatred in wizard society. Right now, he was being handed proof that there were still good people in the world. Perhaps the cause wasn't lost after all.

"That is very kind of you to volunteer." said Dumbledore. "Mr. Montefiore is compliant with this plan."

"I did talk with him about it." said Ron suddenly turning red.

"And what did he say?" Dumbledore pressed.

"He said 'So, you finally noticed Hermione is a girl?'." said Ron grudgingly.

Dumbledore actually fell off his chair he laughed so hard.

There was another knock at the door and Harry walked in.

"Ah, Mr. Potter." said Dumbledore, picking himself up and wiping the tears off his cheeks. "Mr. Weasley was just pitching me the idea of letting Hermione join the Slytherin class so they can keep better tabs on her."

"Really?" said Harry, eyes narrowing.

"He did not inform you of his plan?" asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Harry, fixing a smile on his face, "but it is a very good plan. Hermione hasn't been doing so well. She needs to be protected."

"Well, I can see no reason why-" started Dumbledore.

"However," Harry interjected, "Putting a muggle born in with the Slytherins might be counterproductive. She could join me with the Hufflepuffs. I would be more than happy to make sure she's safe."

"That's a fair point" said Dumbledore. "In that case-"

"It would be too much trouble for Harry to take on alone." Ron interrupted. "Marcus and I working together would be able to handle her better."

"That is very true." said Dumbledore, now leaning back in his chair. This was getting good.

"It would be no trouble at all." said Harry. "And Marcus and Ron already spend half their time fighting off their housemates. Protecting a distressed woman would be asking too much."

Ron suspected that Harry had been taking Sneaky lessons from Cynthia.

"The other Slytherins never bother us during class time." said Ron. "With Diego, Marcus's older brother, teaching us to duel, we're more than capable of taking care of our friend."

"Diego is my brother, too." said Harry. "I am one of his best students."

"So do you two want to duel for Ms. Granger?" asked a grinning Dumbledore, who was wondering if he'd have time to get popcorn.

"Yes!" they both said. They turned to face each other, anger on their faces.

Then they realized how silly this was. They were friends.

"No." they both amended.

"What should we do Professor?" asked Ron.

"You're all friends and can work together." said Dumbledore. "In the interests of fairness, Hermione will accompany Draco with the Gryffindors and the rest of you will help the two of them with their classwork."

"Yes, Professor." they both said. "Thank you, sir."

"Very good." said Dumbledore. "I'll inform Professors Flitwick and McGonagall of the new arrangement."

Harry and Ron both left to find Draco. They had some explaining to do.

"


	26. Shake Up Christmas

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 5: Shake Up Christmas**

_"I was hungry and you gave me something to eat."_

* * *

><p>"Freeeee!" cried Ron running out of the Transfiguration classroom. He wasn't alone either. All throughout Hogwarts students were running down the halls in adulation. They had just sat their last exam for the semester. Christmas break had officially started. In a few hours they would all be on the tram headed for the surface.<p>

Ron was in the dorms throwing everything he could reach into his trunk.

"Those are _my _handkerchiefs." said Marcus.

"Sorry." said Ron, throwing the fistful of black fabric back at him. "I just can't wait to get out of here!"

"Nor I." said Marcus from inside his suitcase. "I can already hear the white shores of the Greater Andaman Islands calling my name."

The Montefiores owned a private island in the Indian Ocean. It was far enough away from civilization that no hapless muggles would notice them using magic.

"I'll be quite happy to have a proper snowball fight in the pasture." said Ron.

"By the way," said Marcus, his torso emerging from the suitcase, "Mother instructed me to give this to you." he handed Ron a black metal box. It was the size and shape of a deck of cards. It was heavy in Ron's hand. He suspected it was one solid piece of metal.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I was told it was for your mother." answered Marcus, back down in his suitcase. "I have no idea what its true purpose is."

"Oi!" they both heard Draco's voice.

Marcus tossed a pocket mirror to Ron.

"I suspect it's for you." said Marcus.

Ron looked into the mirror and saw Draco looking back at him.

"Hermione is trying to break out of the front door." said Draco.

Ron was dashing down the halls a few seconds later. He came up to the blast doors that separated the school from the platform. Hermione was flame-throwing the doors. It was an impressive display of magic but the doors weren't impressed. Draco was standing a safe distance behind her.

"What is she doing?" asked Ron when he reached Draco.

"She's making a break for it." said Draco passively. He'd been monitoring her for the past month, and was glad to see her so excited about something. Normally, she was distant and depressed.

Ron had been afraid Draco would be resentful of him and Harry for saddling him with Hermione. However, Draco agreed that Hermione needed extra supervision. He had taken care of her without putting up a fuss. Ron and Harry had coordinated a homework and study schedule for them to shift some of the burden. The system worked well and they had all made it through exams like a well oiled machine.

"Hermione." said Ron cautiously. "Stop trying to melt the door. It's not even possible."

"He's right Hermione." said Harry running up behind her. "You'll just get in trouble with the Emmas."

The plume of fire from her wand only intensified.

"Any ideas?" Harry asked Ron.

"I have one." said Marcus. He was coming down the hall with his suitcase and Ron's trunk was following him. "_Stupefy._"

A small red spark hit Hermione in the back of the head. She fell back and Harry and Ron dashed forward to catch her.

"Marcus!" cried Harry, indignant. "How could you?"

"Like this. _Stupefy."_said Marcus. Harry was unconscious on the floor.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron. Marcus wouldn't turn on Harry for the reward, would he?

"Orders from the top." said Marcus. "Draco, we are to take our Brother to Dumbledore's office and Cynthia will collect us directly. Ron, you make sure Hermione makes it to the world above."

Marcus dropped Ron's trunk and he and Draco grabbed one of Harry's legs and towed him off.

~o!o~

They were on the tram by the time Hermione stirred. She had been leaned up against Ron's shoulders.

"What happened?" she asked, looking around the tram.

"You passed out." said Ron, employing the second language of every Slytherin: lying. "It was probably stress from exams. The incendiary charm you were using didn't help your exhaustion."

"Oh, yes." said Hermione. "Of course. I was being stupid."

"It's all right." said Ron. "We're headed to the surface now."

When the tram stopped and the doors opened, Hermione trampled several people on her dash out of the tram. She was followed by an equally manic Fred and George.

Ginny, Percy, and Ron waited until the car had emptied and brought out everyone's trunks that they left behind.

"Hello dears." said Molly hugging her children. "Why did Fred and George run outside after Hermione?"

"They're going to go and re familiarize themselves with sunlight." said Ron. "I better make sure Hermione doesn't run into traffic."

Ron ran outside to find Hermione, arms outstretched, twirling in the sunlight. Her smile was big enough to be seen from space. Ron stood and watched her euphoric dance until she got dizzy. As she started to stumble, Ron ran forward to catch her, but he lost his balance and she ended up falling on top of him. Ron found himself on his back, looking up into Hermione's still smiling face. They just lay their, gazing into each other's faces.

The moment was broken by the sound of squealing breaks and twisting metal down the street.

"Fred!" screamed Molly, running past them. "Put the Constable down! And his Motorcycle!"

~o!o~

"What is this?" said Molly, examining the black box Ron handed her.

They had all hurried back to the Burrow after the fiasco at Kings Cross Station. Arthur Weasley had set a personal best by Apparating four trunks three children and his wife all the way across Britain. Percy had brought back Ron himself and Ron had handed off the black box.

"I really don't know." said Ron. The whole Weasley family was gathered around the kitchen table trying to discern the box's purpose. Molly set it down in the middle of the table and clearly enunciated.

"I am Molly Forsythia Weasley previously Prewett." she said.

That did it. A ghostly figure shot out of the box and stood on the table. It looked like Cynthia.

"Greetings." said ghost-Cynthia. "I would like to invite all of you to spend the Christmas holidays with our Family in the Greater Andaman Islands."

She held out both her hands. In one hand was a red bubble marked 'DECLINE' and the other held a green bubble marked 'ACCEPT'.

"Well," said Molly, shocked. "That's very generous of you."

Ghost-Cynthia just stood there, smiling.

"I don't think she can hear you." said Percy. "I think it's just a recording."

"So what should we do?" asked Arthur, looking at the bubbles.

"Why are we even discussing this?" shrieked Ginny. "It's negative forty degrees outside and the water in the toilet is frozen! We're going to the Flippin' Greater Bloody Andaman Sodding Islands!" she reached out and grabbed the 'ACCEPT' bubble.

The bubble exploded in a blinding flash.

The next thing Ron was aware of was swimming in deep water. After several tries, he found which way was up and broke the surface. Coughing up salt water, he eventually felt sand underfoot. He stumbled along, feeling the water get shallower.

"Hello Ms. Weasley." he heard Marcus say. "I'm very sorry. You were supposed to appear on the porch."

"I'm being attacked by an octopus!" screamed Percy.

"That's just seaweed, Percy." said Draco.

Ron finally got his bearings and noticed he was on a beach. Behind him was ocean as far as he could see. In front of him was a beach house on the border of a dense jungle. The rest of his family was coming out of the surf. Marcus was helping Molly onto the beach. Draco was pulling seaweed out of Percy's glasses.

Cynthia came out of the house to greet them. She was wearing a one piece and sarong. With the exception of Ginny, all the Weasley siblings' jaws unhinged. Marcus's normally calm face shifted into glare mode. Ron closed his mouth.

"It's good to see you again." said Cynthia to Molly and Arthur, who were trying to wring the water out of their robes. "We were expecting you a few hours ago. The rotation of the earth must have landed you in the ocean."

Marcus came out of the house with an arm full of towels.

"This is very generous of you." said a still flustered Arthur, drying himself off. "But I-we can't just pick up and leave our home and-is that a hammock?"

"Look." said a bedraggled Molly. "We should really just take our children and..."

She noticed Fred, George, and Ginny weren't standing with them any more. They all looked down the beach to see the Twins had taken off their outer clothes and were running through the surf making whooping noises. Ginny was following close behind, still decent.

"I hope they make it back soon." said Cynthia, her gaze following the galloping gingers. "The house elves just set out dinner."

"Dinner?" asked Molly.

"Yes," said Cynthia, "we decided on roast lamb with the Merlot."

"And it's all done?" asked Molly.

"Yes," said Cynthia, "they've just taken the asparagus off the flame."

"And the elves will clean up afterwards?" asked Molly.

"They'll be finished before we're done with desert." said Cynthia.

Molly was quiet.

"Well, I guess we could stay for a while." she said finally.

~o!o~

A week later, they were all still on the island. Molly had been introduced to her very favorite muggle inventions: the jacuzzi.

The children spent their time exploring their island. In the days before Fred and George had gone off to Hogwarts, they had played in the forests with Ron and Ginny. They pretended they were rugged adventurers exploring the jungle. Now they had a semi-deserted island and a bona fide jungle to explore.

The Eve before Christmas found the children sitting at the top of a cliff, watching the sun set over the ocean. The water was lit up like a street of rubies.

"It's a shame Hermione isn't here." said Harry, looking out over the jungle.

"Yeah," said Draco, sitting next to Ginny, "the tropical air would have done her some good."

"Mother thought, given Hermione's delicate condition, she just needed to be somewhere she was comfortable." said Marcus. "Diego is keeping watch over her and her family. The Granger house is under all the protective enchantments he can ingrain into the brickwork."

"You don't think she'll do anything to hurt herself?" asked Ron.

"No." said Marcus. "But she is in danger from dark wizards. You remember how they put a kings ransom on Harry's life?"

"Yes." said Ron.

"Well," said Marcus, "taking away one of Cynthia's children is only slightly harder than pulling the moon out of orbit. So, they've been looking into alternate strategies."

"Hermione is an alternate strategy?" asked Ron.

"Harry is notorious for his selfless loyalty to his friends at Gryffindor level stupidity." said Marcus.

"Hey!" said Draco and the Weasleys. Except Ron, who just giggled.

"The forces of evil have decided they can get Harry to expose himself by holding one of this friends hostage." finished Marcus.

"Is that why Cynthia brought us to paradise island?" asked Percy.

"We actually named it Raleigh Island." said Marcus. "But yes, that is why I'm putting up with you."

"Love you, too, Marcus." said Ron. "And that's why Diego is protecting Hermione?"

"Yes, Hermione is considered higher risk." said Marcus.

"Why?" asked Draco.

"Well, if you believe the gossip in Hogwarts, Hermione is Harry's steady girlfriend." said Marcus.

"Really?" asked Harry, grinning.

"Who says that?" asked Ron, scowling.

"All the people who aren't saying she's going steady with Draco." said Marcus.

"Excuse me?" said Ginny, jumping up from her seat next to Draco.

"That's not true!" said Draco, looking frantic.

"You do spend a lot of time with her." said Fred.

"That's to make sure she doesn't eat her text books!" objected Draco. "I care about her. She's my friend. I don't want to date her."

"You'd better not." said Ron, who hadn't even been acknowledged by the rumor mill.

"It's true. I don't." Draco said. "I like someone else."

He stopped there, a look of horror washed over his face. Fred and George looked like they'd just been handed a lifetime supply of dungbombs.

"And who is this girl?" asked George, smiling sweetly,

"Or boy?" appended Fred.

"It's a girl." said Draco, irritated.

"That narrows it down." said George. "Is it Lavender Brown?"

"No."

"Angelina Johnson?" asked Fred.

"No."

"Susan Bones?" asked Harry.

"No."

"Pansy Parkinson?" asked Ron.

"Oh, _hell_ no!"

"Come on, Draco." said Marcus, getting him in a headlock. "You can tell your brother. I'll just take us somewhere more private."

Marcus jumped off the cliff. The jump carried him and Draco across the jungle, over the beach, and far into the ocean where they landed with a splash. Draco was cussing the whole way down.

~o!o~

"Wake Up!" yelled Raleigh, jumping on Ron's bed.

"Urgh." Ron grumbled. "Go jump on Marcus."

"He already did." said a groggy Marcus from the doorway. "He also got Draco, Fred, George, and Harry."

"Well, get Percy." said Ron.

"You get presents, too, you know." said Marcus.

"I'm up." said Ron sidling out of bed.

The three of them made their way to the main sitting room where everyone else was gathered under the tree. The tree had no ornaments.

"Was that tree there yesterday?" asked Ron.

"No," said Marcus, "and it won't be there tomorrow. Mother has no patience for frivolous decorations."

"Good, we're all here." said Cynthia, patting down her bed head. "First, a special thank you to Raleigh for waking us up first thing in the morning."

"You're welcome." said Raleigh.

"I'm sure we're all very happy he waited until after one in the morning to wake us up." said Cynthia. "Normally, we have a system to hand out gifts at equal intervals." she pulled a package off the pile and tossed it to Draco. "But there's too many of us now. Everyone tuck in!"

A little over an hour later the room was covered in the debris of savagely mauled wrapping paper. Ron came out of the ordeal with a book on defensive spells from Diego, a buster band from Marcus, and another Weasley sweater from Molly. It once again featured a snake that looked like a badger. Had she ever actually seen a snake?

Molly was still looking at her gift from Cynthia in disbelief. The gift look back at her.

"Can Dobby do something for you?" the gift asked.

"So, I get to keep you?" Molly asked.

"Yes miss." said Dobby. "Should Dobby get started cleaning up the wrapping debris?"

"Give me a hug." said Molly, tearing up.

"Yes miss." said Dobby, obliging her.

"I don't know how she managed to get a hold of my old house elf." Draco said from the other side of the room.

"Some questions are best left unasked." said Marcus.

Just then, Diego walked in.

"Brother!" shrieked Raleigh, running up to hug him. He was closely followed by Marcus and Harry.

"Merry Christmas," said Cynthia, embracing her eldest after her younger sons let him go. "How are the Grangers?"

"They're enjoying Christmas morning." said Diego. "Though they started much later than I'm used to." he ruffled Raleigh's hair. "The defensive enchantments on their house are still functioning, we'll be alerted when anything happens."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow.

"If anything happen." he corrected, smiling at the kids.

"Tell me Ron," said Cynthia, taking off the spun sugar tiara she got from Raleigh, "how are dueling lessons progressing?"

"They're great!" said Ron. "A few more lessons and I could take you on." he joked.

"Very well." said Cynthia, getting up off the couch and heading out the door. "I'll see you on the beach."

~o!o~

"How did you get yourself into this?" asked Marcus, who was hiding with Draco and Harry behind a palm tree.

Ron was on the beach a few paces away from Cynthia.

"I said I'd be able to take her on in a few more lessons." Ron called back.

"Mother prefers to kill things _before _they pose a threat." said Marcus.

"That's a very sensible policy." said Percy from where he was sitting on the porch. Everyone had come outside to watch Ron and Cynthia duel it out. The adults were seated comfortably on the porch, but the children were all taking cover behind various obstructions. The adults thought Cynthia wouldn't splatter Ron, but the children knew her better.

Ron looked fearfully down the beach at Cynthia. She had her wand held up in her signature dagger fashion. Her body was poised to strike like a jaguar about to pounce on a helpless ginger. She had a mischievous smirk. There wasn't a single thing about her that wasn't terrifying.

She stabbed. Bubbles issued out of her wand and flew at Ron.

This would be ok. Barrage class attack. Ron conjured up a full body shield. It enveloped him like a giant hamster ball. The bubbles swarmed around him and popped harmlessly against his shield.

As soon as the bubbles cleared, Cynthia shot a stream of flame at him. It was eerily similar to the spell Hermione used in her escape from Hogwarts attempt.

No problem. Direct assault with a collapsible waveform. Ron managed to alter the air current so that when the flame got to him it forked out in either direction away from his body.

Cynthia followed up with a lightning bolt.

Current Conduction! Easy! He absorbed the lightning bolt into his wand. He focused on the feeling of the energy flowing within him and he channeled the lighting bolt down his arm, through his torso, down his leg and sent it out of his foot and into the ground.

He was feeling pretty confident until he saw that Cynthia was levitating a boulder over her head. She shot it at him. Fast Ball! He cast a levitating charm on it as it hurtled toward him and he made it veer around him and swing back at Cynthia.

She didn't even flinch when it came back at her full speed. When the boulder made contact with her, it broke apart and scattered the ground with debris.

"Very good." she said, smiling in a non-scary way and straightening up out of attack position. "I was worried that Diego would be to soft with you."

"Soft?" said Draco. "He dropped us on our heads from twenty feet!"

"Into an alligator pit." added Harry.

"He covered me in ketchup first." said Marcus, sounding very proud of himself.

"Yes, you've all made me very proud." said Cynthia, putting an arm around Ron's shoulders. He was pretty sure she wouldn't stab him while his guard was down. "Based on this progress, I have no hesitation in authorizing Diego to teach you offensive spells when you return -"

She was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from Diego's wristwatch. He looked down at his wrist in horror, then disappointed with a crack.

Ron had a hunch what was going on. Cynthia pulled her arm off his shoulder. As she did so, Ron grabbed on to her wrist. Cynthia twisted away from him and he doubled his grip. He then felt a compressing feeling like he was being crushed down and pushed through a hosepipe.

The sensation ceased, and he could breath again. He looked around to find himself on the street of a muggle neighborhood.

"You two are in so much trouble!" he heard Cynthia trill.

Two? He looked on Cynthia's other arm and saw Harry looking back at him. He was holding on tightly to her other wrist.

The three of them were distracted by a cacophony from across the street. Diego was dueling half a dozen wizards at once outside one of the houses.

"That's Hermione's house!" yelled Harry. Ron had suspected this. That was the only thing he could think of that could make Diego look so terrified.

"I'll deal with you two later." said Cynthia in a dangerously calm tone.

The next thing Ron was aware of, he was looking down on the street from above from inside a shimmering orb. He looked for Harry, and found him in a matching orb next to him.

Down on the street, Cynthia had turned the asphalt on the road into a gigantic black serpent that was coiling around the attacking wizards. There was also a puddle forming under them, but they were pretty sure that wasn't magical. Diego ran into the house. He saw him emerge with a small family. Ron saw a head of bushy brown hair that he would recognize anywhere. He assumed the two adults with her were her parents. Diego gathered them up in a group hug once they were out in the street and they all disappeared.

A few seconds later, some other wizards appeared on the street. Cynthia spoke to them for a while and pointed them to the six wizards being constricted by the asphalt snake. The wizards went to deal with the aggressors while Cynthia walked away. The orbs around Ron and Harry vanished and they started free falling to earth.

In the midst of his terrified, girlish screaming he saw Cynthia jump off the pavement and rocket up to meet them. When all three of them met at the same altitude, Cynthia grabbed the boys and Ron felt the familiar sensation of being squeezed from all directions.

Then he was underwater. He was pulled by his arm onto dry land and pulled up to a standing position. He blinked away the water and saw that he was in front of the beach house. More importantly, his mother and Cynthia were standing before him, both wearing their 'this-is-going-to-hurt-you-more-than-it-hurts-me' expressions.

"First," said Cynthia, her voice like thin ice cracking under foot, "Hermione and her family are safe in the house." she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the beach house. "Second, you are both in a world of trouble."

"We had no way of knowing you were Apparating to a place of imminent danger." said Harry from beside him. "I thought you were going away for ice cream." He had definitely been taking Sneaky lessons from Cynthia.

"Being sneaky won't save you!" said Cynthia. She turned to Molly. "Mrs. Weasley, Ron is not my son. You're free to deal with him as you please."

"I see no reason we can't share." said Molly.

"Good, good." said Cynthia. "As for punishment, I was thinking...snails."

~o!o~

A few days later, the kids were all gathered around a fire on the beach after the sun had set. Ron was staring into the fire, mulling over what had happened in the past week.

Cynthia had relocated the Grangers to a safe house. Hermione had opted to stay at the beach house and return to Hogwarts with the others. She was still very shell shocked about what happened. All she had wanted was to get out of Hogwarts Underground and the minute she went topside, she had been attacked by bounty hunters.

Diego had gone to check on the Burrow in the hours following the attack on the Granger house. He had found it ransacked but largely unharmed. In the case of his and the twins rooms you could hardly tell anything had happened. Still, it was scary knowing someone had broken into their home. His father had gone back to put protective enchantments over the house.

"You know," said Percy in dead tones, "as horrible as Hogwarts is, I'm looking forward to going back."

Ron had to agree. The safety provided by eleven feet of solid concrete was a great comfort. He turned to ask Hermione what she thought. Her place in the sand was empty. Ron looked across the fire to see Harry was missing, too. He turned to look down the beach to see two shadows walking in the surf, hand in hand.

Ron spent the rest of the night wondering what he could do with five thousand Galleons.


	27. Back Down Under

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 6: Back Down Under**

_"Why pick the lesser evil?"_

* * *

><p>The new year had begun at Hogwarts. The students were setting up in their dorm rooms and enjoying the last remaining hours of freedom before class starts. However, there's only so much freedom you can enjoy in a concrete bunker. Everyone had gone to the library to find something to read. Studying was one of the few things you could do with wild abandon in Hogwarts Underground. The bunker had the unintended side effect of turning the whole school into Hermione, as well as turning Hermione batty.<p>

Marcus and Ron walked into the Arithmancy section. Marcus had bet Ron that he could divide by zero. Ron had insisted they look it up before they tried it. There are some forces with which mere mortals must never tamper.

The found Draco sitting at one of the tables, his head in his hands, a letter in front of him. They stood silently on the other side of the table. Draco didn't acknowledge their presence, but after a few seconds, he pushed the letter to their side of the table. They leaned down and began reading.

_My Dear Son, Draco,_

_ Your mother and I have missed you greatly. We sent you to Cynthia in the hopes that you would be safe. We're so grateful that she and her family have protected you and given you the love we wished we could give you ourselves._

_ We're both looking forward to the day we can all be together again._

_ The good news is that we can be together again! The Dark Lord has made an offer. If you turn over Harry Potter to us, you will be forgiven for the face-stabbing incident. The Dark Lord will use him to return to power and then he will lead us to a new world order. He will absolve you of your act of indiscretion and you can return to the fold without fear of retribution. We can be a family again._

_ Love from your Father_

Marcus looked up to Draco.

"Your father sure knows how to make a Christmas card." he said.

"I don't know what to do." said Draco, tears in his voice.

Marcus walked around to sit next to Draco and embraced him. He could be very comforting when it was necessary.

"I really miss them." Draco said into Marcus's robe.

"Of course, you do. It's been very hard." said Marcus.

"They really do love me, you know." said Draco.

"Of course they do. They're your parents." Marcus soothed.

"If I don't turn Harry over to You-Know-Who they'll think I don't care about them." said Draco.

"Ah." said Marcus.

"I don't want to turn Harry over to that psychopath! He's like my brother." said Draco dissolving into tears.

Ron could only imagine the difficulty of this decision. There had been times when his mother stared him down to get him to confess to what Fred and George had done, but it never came to life or death and new world order.

"Maybe," posited Ron, "we can have it both ways."

"What do you mean?" said Marcus. Draco looked up from the wet patch on Marcus's robes.

"Well imagine if you did try and give Harry up to the Death Eaters, what would happen?" Ron asked.

"Didly squat." answered Marcus. "Even if you managed to knock him out, there's no way to get him out of the school. Only Dumbledore can open the blast doors."

"Exactly." said Ron. "So, if Draco wasn't trying to kidnap Harry..."

"There would be no practical difference it what happened. No matter what I do he's still not getting out." finished Draco.

"So, if he writes back to his parents and tells him he's trying his best to abduct Harry..." said Marcus.

"They'd have no way of knowing he was talking out of his ass." finished Ron.

"And they don't feel betrayed!" finished Draco. "That's brilliant and despicable." he said.

"We are Slytherins." said Ron.

"Draco," said Marcus, getting up, "you write to your parents telling them you're getting on it. I'm going to sow some wild oats in the Hogwarts rumor mill."

"What for?" Draco asked, pulling out some parchment.

"Corroborating sources." said Marcus. "We have to make it _look_ like you're targeting Harry."

~o!o~

A few weeks into the new semester, everyone was back into their routine. This weekend, the Fifth House was in the Charms Room for the dueling lesson with Diego. He had set up five dummies on the opposite end of the room. They were shooting ice shards at the dummies. The lesson this week was using the surrounding elements in offensive attacks. Using what was at hand used less power than attacking purely with your own energy and ended up doing more damage.

"As you know," said Diego, from a position of relative safety behind them, "the staff has been monitoring all the letters that go in and out of Hogwarts. We reviewed a letter today going from Terence Higgs, a Slytherin prefect, to his father saying that Draco assaulted Harry in the lavatory and severed off his left hand."

Harry wiggled his left hand fingers experimentally.

"I think I would remember that." said Harry.

"You shouldn't put too much stock in gossip." said Marcus. "Next thing, you'll be hearing that Draco set fire to the Hufflepuff dorms."

"I will?" asked Diego, a grin spreading on his face.

"It should find it's way into general circulation within the week." said Marcus. "You've got to love a reliable grapevine."

They all had a good laugh at this. Ron turned to Hermione. She had lost a lot of color since coming back underground. Her hair had even deflated. However, there were no other signs of distress. She had been keeping up in classes. She had been attentive to what was going on. She had not tried to eat off the ends of her fingers. She had been taking classes with her fellow Ravenclaws instead of having Draco supervise her. Ron was a little worried that the other shoe was about to drop.

"How are you doing?" asked Ron.

"Well, I hate it here." said Hermione, frankly. "However, I realize it is safe down here. I don't have to worry about being attacked by Dark Wizards and used as a bartering chip in an interplay of power blocks. I can focus on school work and one day I'll be able to curse the living daylights out of anyone who so much as mails me a threatening letter. I just have to bear it a little while longer."

This was good news. She was regrouping rather than despairing. Ron had no doubt that one day she'd be able to give all the Death Eaters Hell.

"Wanna have a picnic later in the greenhouse?" Ron offered.

"I'd love that." she said, smiling at him. "Can we sit by the butterfly bushes?"

"Anything you want." said Ron, and he severed the head of his dummy with an icicle.

~o!o~

Lucius looked out the window onto the grounds of his manor. He was holding a bundle in his arms and feeding it with a bottle full of an electric blue potion.

"I just got a letter from Draco." said Lucius.

"Hm." said the bundle around the bottle.

"He's trying everything he can think of to get Harry Potter." said Lucius.

"mHm." said the bundle.

"We just got word from the Nott family. He managed to smuggle a crate of Acromantulas into the Hufflepuff dormitories." said Lucius, glowing with pride.

"Hm?" said the bundle.

"I know it's kind of blunt, but he is a Gryffindor, after all." said Lucius

The double doors behind them burst open and Rohr walked in. He was followed by a woman Lucius had not seen previously. She was olive toned with dark hair and eyes. She wore a scarlet dress.

"My Lord." said Rohr, bowing sharply. "May I introduce to you Isabella Cervantes. She is the leader of the Spanish Pureblood Supremacy movement."

"Charmed." she said. Her voice was melodious. Taking her all in, Lucius took a moment to remind himself he loved his wife.

"Mhm." said the bundle. There was a popping sound as it pushed the bottle away.

"Pleased to meet you my dear." rasped the bundle. "Your support is appreciated. When wizarding kind rules Europe, you will, of course, hold a high position over Spain."

"And what of Portugal?" she asked.

"Won't even be it's own country anymore." appended the bundle as Cervantes smirked.

"We are moving on the liberation initiative." said Rohr.

"Good." rasped the bundle. "and are we any closer on the blood?"

"Draco will-" started Lucius.

"As much as I appreciate your sons honest effort," interrupted the bundle, "we will need a plan B."

"We have sent a concealed message to the loyal students at Hogwarts." said Rohr. "A golden opportunity is about to open."

~o!o~

Ron looked at the headline of the Daily Prophet for the fifth time. He hoped the letters would have rearranged themselves this time.

**Mass Breakout From Azkaban****‼**

Nope, still there. He looked down the table to see that, except for Zabini, the Slytherins were in a state of adulation. The other four tables looked panicked. At the Gryffindor table, Neville Longbottom had his paper gripped so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Ron reread the list of prisoners that escaped. He recognized a few of the names. Bellatrix Lestrange and her Husband Rodolphus; they had killed more muggles than the bubonic plague. Augustus Rookwood; leaked so much ministry information they had to rename the Department of Mysteries to the Department of Redundancy. Antonin Dolohov; Killed Ron's uncles Gideon and Fabian Prewett with the help of four of his friends.

"Well, this is troubling." said Marcus.

"At least we're still safe down here." said Ron.

"I mean that." said Marcus, pointing to the Ravenclaw table. Hermione was getting up and walking down to the exit. She was smiling broadly. That was troubling. She had been smiling like that for the past few weeks now, but with the bad news it was expected to at least pretend to be upset.

"Something," he whispered to Marcus, "is rotten in the state of Denmark, and we're going to stalk it until it starts to smell."

"I think you may have overplayed that metaphor." said Marcus.

~o!o~

Marcus and Ron sneaked down the hall a short distance behind Hermione. This was a difficult task, since the entire complex was designed to make sneaking impossible. They had decided to take a risk and don Marcus's invisibility cloak. To their great surprise, the enchantments on the cloak hadn't set off any alarms. However, there was a different drawback. Marcus and Ron, being vertically gifted, were two long poles in a tent that was too short. The hallway amplified the smallest footstep. They were both hunched over, on their tiptoes, trying to keep a wisp of fabric covering them.

"my back ith killing me" whispered Marcus. Cynthia had had Special Ops training and had schooled her children in whispering so quietly that it lacked capital letters and punctuation.

"Sh." said Ron.

"im getting a blithter" whispered Marcus.

"Sh." said Ron.

So far, Hermione hadn't noticed them. She was nearly skipping down the hall. Ron could swear he even heard her humming.

"why ith thee tho happy" asked Marcus.

"Sh." Ron answered.

"ith thee on drugth" asked Marcus.

"Sh." Ron responded.

"or meeting up with a boyfriend" Marcus suggested. "Hurk!" that was when Ron kicked him.

Hermione spun around and looked around the apparently deserted corridor. Seeing nothing amiss, she turned back and continued down the hall. She reached the final room and entered, shutting the door behind her.

Ron swept the cloak off them.

"Well we can't follow her in there." Ron complained. "It's the girls toilet. We skipped History of Magic for nothing. Not that I'll miss it."

Marcus, who was still doubled over in pain, put his ear to the door.

"Is that...?" asked Marcus. "Fred?"

Ron shoved his ear onto the door. He could hear scrapping sounds inside...and grunting.

"I have no idea how deep we've gone." he heard Fred say.

"I can keep going." said Hermione.

"I don't want you to over exert yourself. You know Ron and Harry keep a close eye on you." said Fred.

"They don't suspect anything." said Hermione. "Just keep going."

"We're going as hard as we can." said Fred. We?

"You could make more progress if you both went in." said Hermione.

"We can do that." said George. George? "The hole is big enough now."

Oh, that was it.

Ron threw the door open and pointed his wand at...Luna Lovegood. She was sitting next to a toilet looking up at him with her typical expression of surprise. The toilet was flushing down. She had a bucket of dirt next to her. Several in fact. There was dirt all over the floor. When he looked around, he saw that an entire wall of the bathroom was missing. The soil of outside was exposed. Fred, George, and Hermione were standing in front of a gaping hole that seemed to lead straight up. The were armed with miners lights and shovels. Their faces were streaked with dirt. Fred and George had taken their shirts off. All in all, it wasn't half as bad as what he _thought_ he was going to see.

"Hermione," said Marcus, slowly, "have these two conned you into digging out of here?"

"She actually conned us." said Fred.

"She didn't have to sell it." said George. "We're sodding sick of this place."

"It's true." said Hermione, putting down a shovel she was holding. "I found a coalition of students from all four houses that were digging an escape tunnel."

"Why would you do that?" Ron asked. "You know what's out there! There are people who will come after you. You're safe down here."

"How have you been getting all the dirt out?" asked Marcus.

They heard the toilet flush. They looked over to see Luna spooning dirt into the whirlpool.

"Ah." said Marcus. "Patience is a craziness."

"I know it's dangerous out there." said Hermione. "But there's life out there, too. There's beauty and excitement and sunlight and joy. You can't seal yourself away from everything. That's no way to live. What's out there is wonderful. It's worth fighting for. This life lived in fear is a life half lived!"

"Can we set that aside just now?" said Marcus stepping forward. "You said this tunnel was being dug by other students?"

"Yes." said George. "We dig in shifts. Whoever has a free period or History of Magic comes here to dig or flush."

"And these are students from all of the four houses?" asked Marcus.

"Five houses." corrected Hermione. "Yes."

"Slytherins have been digging to the surface." said Marcus.

"They want freedom, too." said Hermione.

"No," said Marcus. "They want oppression."

Then they all heard an explosion from inside the tunnel.


	28. Breach

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 7: Breach**

_"We will fight them in the tunnels! We will fight them in the dungeons!"_

* * *

><p>Debris was falling into the bathroom from the tunnel. Ron grabbed Hermione and pulled her outside. He was quickly followed by Marcus, who was dragging one twin in each hand. He turned back to the door and brandished his wand.<p>

"_Colloportus!_" he incanted. The bathroom door closed with a squelching sound.

"Luna is still in there!" cried Hermione.

Marcus was already running down the hall with both twins in tow. He shouted back over his shoulder.

"I don't give a -!"

_Bang!_ The door of the bathroom shook as something inside tried to get out.

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her after Marcus and the twins.

Marcus opened the very next door he came to and shoved both twins inside. Ron dragged Hermione inside as Marcus held the door open. Marcus jumped in and slammed the door behind him. They all stopped to catch their breath.

"hWhat," drolled a voice behind them, "are you all doing?"

Ron turned to see Professor Snape leading his class of fifth year Gryffindors.

"Sir," said Ron, "There's been a breach in the Girls Bathroom!"

"Well, mop it up then." said Snape.

"No," said Ron, "The wall has been broken."

To support his assertion, there was an explosion in the hall, like a bathroom door had separated from the wall and catapulted down the corridor.

Snape dashed over to the wall and slid a panel in the wall aside, revealing a large red button. He slammed his hand down on the button and a shrill siren filled the air. With a sharp clang, a blast door came down over the door to the classroom. Ron heard other clangs far away, he imagined the entire complex being sealed up tight like a drum. The classrooms were shielding themselves from the intruders.

"How did they get in?" Snape asked, turning to the dirt covered group.

"They were digging in while we were digging out." said Hermione, sounding deeply ashamed of herself.

"You did WHAT?" asked Snape, sounding deeply ashamed of her.

"The tunnel must have reached high enough that they could transmit the coordinates of Hogwarts to the enemy." said Marcus. "I would have liked to see their faces when they found out we were under Kings Cross Station this whole time."

"You knew where we are?" asked Ron.

"It is the kind of thing Mother would do." said Marcus simply. "We should anticipate their next move."

"They came to get Harry." said Ron, shifting gears into analysis mode. This was just another game of chess. The life threatening, full contact version. "Failing that, they will look for a bargaining chip. Most likely Hermione."

"They probably know where to find any of us." offered Hermione. "If they could transmit our location they could have given them a layout of Hogwarts. And our schedules."

"Right now, Harry has Defense Against The Dark Arts with the Gryffindors. Draco is with him." said Ron.

"If the Death Eaters attack, Harry will give himself up if the other students are in danger." said Marcus.

"And Draco will fight them for all he's worth." said Hermione.

"Stupid Gryffindor." said Marcus, Ron, and Snape.

"There's nothing for it." said Marcus. "We have to go and fight with our friends."

"How are we going to get to them?" asked Ron.

Marcus pulled a roll of parchment from his robes and spread it open on the nearest desk. It was a layout of the school with hundreds of moving dots on it.

"How did you get that?" asked Snape. "Only Professors were issued those."

"I stole your map and copied the enchantments on it." said Marcus.

It was a testament to how serious the situation was that Snape didn't immediately deduct house points.

"The Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom is on the other side of this wall and two classrooms over." said Hermione reading the map.

"You are not going to blast through the wall." said Snape.

"That's preposterous." said Marcus. "All the walls are reinforced concrete with high integrity retention enchantments." He pulled out his wand. "Now, everyone, make a space on the floor."

~o!o~

Draco and Harry were cornered in their wing of the school. They had left their classroom in order to draw fire away from their classmates. Professor Lupin had been seriously injured in the first few seconds of the onslaught. They had left him in the care of Justin Finch-Fletchley, who could do little more than put pressure on the wound.

Draco and Harry were putting up a dual layer shield charm, but they were still being forced back.

"Oh, just give up!" shrieked Bellatrix. "I knew you weren't trying to hand him over, Draco!"

"It's not worth it, Auntie!" said Draco. "We can live in peace with the muggle-borns!"

Bellatrix stopped, stunned. She grabbed her chest like her heart had stopped. She didn't have a chance to burst into tears, because the ground underneath her ruptured.

"_Bombarda!"_ cried Hermione coming out of the hole. The surprised Death Eaters were blown back a few paces. Draco and Harry used the opportunity to go on the offensive. As they gained ground, Marcus and Ron made their way out the hole.

"Where did you come from?" asked Harry between curses.

"We tunneled here from the potions room." said Ron. "The floors were never magically reinforced. I guess no one figured on an attack from below."

"How did they even get in?" asked Draco.

"Hermione can explain later." said Marcus.

"God, I hope I'm dead by then." said Hermione.

Then, for the second time. The floor ruptured beneath them. Ron flew through the air, bounced off the wall and landed among the rubble. Marcus fell on top of him a second later.

Ron looked around, but couldn't see any of his friends through the dust cloud. He and Marcus struggled to their feet and confronted a tall, stocky figure coming through the haze.

He was bald with a stone face.

"There is no reason to fight." he spoke with a German accent. "Our coming to power is inevitable. Give us Harry Potter and you will live a while longer."

"Take him." said Marcus. "He's right behind you."

The man turned his head. They both cursed him as hard as they could. In spite of getting in the first hit, he recovered quickly. The two Slytherins had more powerful wands and moderate skill, but the German had a lot of duels under his belt. Eventually, they found themselves backed up against the wall with no more room to run.

Then a blue beam of light hit the German in the shoulder and he went spinning into the far wall like a super powered top. Ron looked to where the spell came from and saw Dumbledore standing firm in the hallway. The German got to his feet and faced Dumbledore and they began dueling. Bellatrix ran up and joined her German companion in trying to bring Dumbledore down. The dust was settling and Ron could see the whole corridor was a chaotic battlefield.

Farther up the corridor, Flitwick was dueling five Death Eaters at once, which was hardly fair for the Death Eaters. McGonagall was turning Rookwood's robes into a swarm of wasps. By the look of the way he was panicking, that included his under wear.

Ron kept looking for Hermione. He saw her on the far end of the hall with Draco.

Marcus grabbed Ron's collar and swiveled him around. In his new position, Ron saw Harry lying unconscious on the other end of the corridor. There was a woman in a red dress leaning over him and she had something stabbed into his arm. There were too many Death Eaters in the way to make it over to him.

"Ron," said Marcus, "do you remember that thing you said we should try that I said would never happen?"

"Yes." he said.

"We're doing it." said Marcus.

~o!o~

Scabior ran back down the halls of the Hogwarts underground. He wondered for the hundredth time why someone would build a school underground. He had never liked school, and someone had made it into an actual dungeon. The siege wasn't going as he'd hoped. They were supposed to come in, break in to a classroom, use superior numbers to overwhelm the teacher, and run back to the surface with Potter.

The little shit wasn't supposed to fight back. Where did they even learn to duel like that? Was that one of the classes he had cut? Then Dumbledore had turned up. That was when Scabior had turned tail and ran back to the girls bathroom.

He noticed something odd on his way back. The plan had been to flood Hogwarts with Death Eaters, but there was no one else coming from the tunnel. He had the sinking feeling that something was going wrong top-side.

As he made the final approach, someone marched out of the tunnel. A woman with clinically short black hair and a power suit. She was holding her wand like a dagger.

"So what's it gonna be?" she asked him in gentle tones. "Buried or buried alive?"

~o!o~

After Diego had taught them basic shield charms, Ron had planned a maneuver he called 'The Fast Ball Special'. He and Marcus were going to try it for the first time, five months after Marcus had stated it was lunacy.

"Ready?" asked Ron.

"No." said Marcus. "Let's do it." He cast a full body shield around himself. It was the same hamster ball Ron had used to protect himself from Cynthia's bubble barrage.

Ron levitated Marcus in the air. This was a simple feat; Marcus was ninety pounds holding lead weights in each hand. Next, Ron started swinging Marcus around like a giant ball and chain. After building up some momentum, he let Marcus fly. The ball bounced down the hall like it was in a pinball machine. Marcus knocked over Death Eaters left, right, and center. As the crowning achievement, he collided full speed with the scarlet witch crouching over Harry.

The woman was knocked out cold against the wall. Marcus was stumbling around, as people will do after they've been put through the spin cycle.

Ron ran down the hall through the path of destruction Marcus's pinball had carved. He knelt down next to Harry.

"Harry? You alright?" he asked.

Harry didn't respond, but he was breathing, deep even breaths.

Marcus had gotten his bearings, finally. He and Ron faced a the crowd of Death Eaters. They were all on the one side of them now. They both conjured up a wall of fire and started driving the Death Eaters to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were kicking ass and taking names. They kept advancing. The Death Eaters on the other side of the fire wall couldn't see them to aim curses, so all they had to do was move in a zig zag pattern and they dodged every spell.

They thought they were winning until they both got blown away by a wave of dark magic. Ron was blown back into the far wall. His head made a nasty cracking sound as it hit concrete. His skin felt like it was being seared off with then thousand curling irons.

When the blackness cleared, the hall looked strangely empty. He saw Dumbledore running toward him at a speed a transcentennial shouldn't be able to reach. Then he saw no more.


	29. Rubble

**Book 3: Ron Weasley and The Awful Sanctuary**

**Chapter 8: Rubble**

_"The best laid plans of mice and men fall to ruin."_

* * *

><p>Ron woke up to find himself on a cot. There was a warm weight on his chest. He bent his head up to see Percy partially draped over him. Percy must have fallen asleep at his bedside.<p>

Percy's eyes opened and saw that Ron was awake.

"Ron!" he gathered up Ron in a hug. The Twins and Ginny came out of nowhere and added to the compression.

"Alright, Geroff!" he said, though he couldn't help smiling in the midst of all that affection. As soon as they pulled away, he looked around. He was in what was left of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. There were cracks forming on the ceiling. He could see the corridor outside was littered with rubble. Some of the chunks that had fallen out of the ceiling were the size of motorcycles.

"What happened?" he asked.

"The school was attacked and you fought them off." said Ginny.

"It was awesome." said Percy, grinning appreciatively.

"And I'm sure whoever is responsible is very sorry." said Fred and George, looking guilty.

"I remember that." said Ron. "I mean after I blacked out."

"I can fill that in." said Dumbledore, stepping into the room. He transfigured one of the fallen rocks into an armchair and sat down.

"There was an explosion of Dark Magic." he began. "Some of the Death Eaters used the cover to escape through a separate tunnel. Bellatrix Lestrange, The German I assume was Helmut Rohr, and the Scarlet Woman who stabbed Mr. Potter all escaped."

"Is Harry ok?" asked Ron, trying to get out of Bed while Percy forced him back down.

"A few ministrations by Madame Pomfrey saw him right as rain. Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Montefiore have all fully recovered from their injuries. We were lucky there was no loss of life in the assault, however, the Hogwarts Underground is finished.

"There was massive damage to the integrity of the structure, we've evacuated most of the students already. Chairwoman Montefiore has already taken her sons home."

"But Hermione's still here." Ginny put in, looking slyly at Ron.

"Cynthia must be mad at...", he glanced fleetingly at the twins, "whoever helped them get in."

"You mean Ms. Granger and the Demolition Duo?" Dumbledore asked, pointing his thumb at a rapidly paling Fred and George. "She's actually more upset at her own miscalculations, which, if we are to be fair, I shared in when we built this place. We tried to exchange freedom for safety and got neither." Dumbledore got up.

"We won't be exacting punishment for digging the tunnel for no other reason than we now have bigger problems. The last train is departing from the platform I deem you are well enough to be moved Mr. Weasley. Good day."

~o!o~

The Weasleys all took their seat on the tram after putting their trunks in the racks. As the doors were closing, Hermione jumped into the car with her suitcase. She went over to sit right next to Ron.

As Ron watched her she looked straight ahead. Until, finally:

"I'm sorry Ron." she said. She sounded like she had a very severe head cold.

"It's alright." he told her.

When he said this she broke down into tears. Ron pulled her into his chest.

"I should have known better!" she wailed.

"It's alright." he said. "That place drove everyone a little mad. Marcus even took up knitting. It's not your fault you turned the wrong color of crazy."

"Harry's going to hate me! I led them right to him!" she cried.

"No, you didn't." said Ron. "Dozens of people were digging that tunnel. They would have gotten in with or without you." He paused for a second and then: "Harry would never hate you."

"Really?" she said, her tears clearing up.

"Of course, he loves you like a sister." he said.

From across the car, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny all raised an eyebrow. They knew that if any of them treated Ginny with that kind of 'brotherly affection' their mother would actually invent the next Unforgivable Curse.

However, Hermione was in his arms right now and Harry had been pigeonholed in the friend-zone. You never take a break from being a Slytherin.

"At least we never have to come back here." said Percy.

"They'll probably move us somewhere worse next year." said Fred. "A solid iron ball at the bottom of the ocean."

"Or a bunker made of diamonds in the heart of a volcano." said George.

"Nothing like that." said Percy. "I overheard Chairwoman Montefiore talking to Professor Dumbledore while Harry was kissing Hermione goodbye-"

_Shit!_

"-the bounty on Harry Potter has been rescinded. We don't need a high security Hogwarts anymore since they won't be targeting him."

"That's awesome!" said Fred and George, jumping out of their seats.

"Why would they just rescind the bounty?" asked Ginny.

"I guess they got what they needed without him." said Percy.

~o!o~

There were hundreds of them. Wizards from every corner of the globe stood around a single round stage in the center of the crowd. They all held their wands up, lit, illuminating the dark night around them with a thousand points of light.

On the stage, a huge cauldron was simmering over a fire. Shimmering particles were rising from the surface like diamond dust. The cauldron was surrounded by four people: Maximilian Blanchard, holding a bundle, Helmut Rohr, holding a box, Isabella Cervantes, holding a dagger, and Bellatrix Lestrange, looking manic.

Blanchard stepped forward and unwrapped the bundle and dropped it's contents into the cauldron.

Rohr opened the box and pulled out a human skull. He held it over the cauldron and crushed it into powder in his grip.

"Bones of the Father," he shouted over the crowd, "unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

As the fragments fell into potion, it glowed electric blue.

Bellatrix stepped forward next. She was holding a long, thin silver blade.

"Flesh of the servant," she cried out, "willingly given, you will revive your master!"

She held her right hand over the potion. She swung the blade up in a smooth arc and severed her hand from her arm. Even the most hardened sadists in the audience had to turn away. She never screamed. She just clutched her stump to her chest and grinned maniacal while the potion glowed a burning red.

Cervantes stepped forward next, looking nauseous. She held her dagger over the cauldron. A trickle of Harry's blood could barely be seen dripping off of it.

"Blood of the enemy," she called, "forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."

As the blood dripped into the cauldron, the glow subsided. The four wizards looked at each other, concerned.

"Did we do something wrong?" Blanchard asked Cervantes. She shrugged.

"Maybe we should have-"

Then the potion shot out white sparks like an erupting volcano. They were all knocked on their backs. They were all blinded by the fireworks. When the last spark went out they were left to gaze into darkness until their eyes adjusted.

The air was thick with mist. The silhouette of the cauldron was only barely visible. The wizards squinted into the murky blackness and saw a form emerge from the cauldron. Cervantes took off her cape and, bowing every step of the way, draped it over his shoulders. Rohr bowed stiffly and presented him with a wand. The figure took it and took Bellatrix's stump in his hands. He pointed his wand and a silvery hand appeared at the end of her arm, which she flexed delicately.

The figure pointed his wand straight up and the mist was banished in a burst of light. The crowd could see the pale figure with his yellow eyes and slit nostrils clearly.

Lord Voldemort had returned.

Hundreds of miles away, Cynthia sat in behind her desk and watched the resurrection on her magic mirror. Her lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

"Right on schedule." she said.

* * *

><p>End Book 3<p> 


	30. The Order of The Phoenix

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

It's the fourth year in Hogwarts for the Fifth House. Voldemort has returned, big as life and twice as ugly. Under the surface, behind the scenes, the world is changing as the dark wizards prepare their sinister plot. As people, muggle and wizard, go about their daily lives oblivious to the coming darkness. Dumbledore is hard at work, trying to stop the bloodshed. The ministry is complicating as many simple things as they can. Cynthia is up to something, as usual. In the middle of this is five talented kids that get bored easily.

**Chapter 1: The Order of The Phoenix**

_"Nothing unites disparate people like a common enemy."_

* * *

><p>Cynthia Montefiore stood on the balcony of the huge hall and looked down at the floor below. The floor of the hall was a perfect circle, the same area as an NFL regulation football field. Tiling the whole thing had been a huge expense. To the casual observer, the floor was covered with the world's largest connect-the-dots puzzle. However, Cynthia knew it was the largest, most accurate star chart in existence.<p>

Every dot on the ground, each a different size and shade represented a distant heavenly body. The all moved slowly on the floor in a steady dance, reflecting the movements of their celestial counterparts that were moving millions of miles an hour far, far away. At the dead center of the hall floated a tiny blue dot: Planet Earth. Home. It's generally believed that the Earth isn't the center of the Universe, but no one has been able to find the edge of the Universe to be able to prove this. At any rate, Earth is the dead center of the _Observable _Universe. Centaurs were walking up and down the hall, using various tools to measure the distance between planets and the angles of orbits.

A russet colored Centaur walked up behind Cynthia.

"Good day, Firenze. Are you having satisfactory results with the hall?" she asked.

"Yes, Chairwoman Montefiore." said Firenze. "We are all very grateful for the accommodations you provided. We didn't know where we would go after Hogwarts grounds were devastated."

"It was nothing." she said dismissively. "Yellowstone was always underutilized. So," she turned toward him, "have you seen anything interesting."

This was the crux of it. The centaurs may not have a concept of currency, but even they knew you didn't get something for nothing. Centaurs skill with reading the stars to determine the future was second to none. She gave them a new home, a gigantic forest to roam free. In return, they told her what was coming.

"The signs had been telling us for years that the wizarding world is in a peace between two wars." he started. "the peace is coming to an end. The perihelion of Mars indicates that the coming war will be brutal. The casualties will number in the hundreds of millions."

He had expected the Chairwoman to flinch. Blink, at the very least. She simply waved a hand for him to continue.

"After the second war is over, there will be a new world order. Someone will reign alone over the whole planet." he said.

"We can safely say that that is more power than any one man should have." she said. "Are there any other portends?"

"There have been several recurring symbols, but we can't make sense of them." he said.

"Let's have them anyway." she said.

He looked, searching his memory for the information.

"A crown that flies..." he said, "...A giant key, wielded like a sword...A child that was never born...and a Whale that cannot swim."

She nodded and began walking out of the building.

"I'm sorry. The future is mysterious." said Firenze.

"Actually, two of those make perfect sense." said Cynthia. "And those who write their future, can see it clearly."

~o!o~

"_Dear Ginny" _Draco Malfoy typed out. "_I'm getting better at this typing thing Cynthia is making us learn. I can type 110 words per minute. It's become a competition between us. Marcus leads the pack at 200 words per minute. Knowing him, he's just cheating, but I still hate getting beaten. I'm also getting better at using the Image Manipulation Program. Attached to this eMail is a picture of Dumbledore's head on Pansy Parkinson's body. Love Draco."_

He thought about it for a second, then replaced 'Love' with 'Miss You'. He then deleted 'Miss You' and typed 'See You Soon'. Then he changed it to 'Hope To See You Soon'. He read the whole letter one more time to make sure it sounded sufficiently casual. Once satisfied, he hit send.

"Can you turn the page?" asked Harry.

Draco looked up from his console to see what Harry needed. He was still lying on the same table with machines sweeping over his body. He had been lying there for half an hour now. They were in one of the Guild office buildings. The room they were in was completely empty except for a bank of computers and the machine Harry was lying under. A few lab techs were monitoring computer banks.

Marcus got up from his seat beside Draco and turned the page of the newspaper that was floating above Harry. He had to lie perfectly still for the whole scanning procedure. They had given him a copy of the Daily Prophet so he didn't get bored. The Daily Prophet was the best work of fiction since the Ministry's annual budget report.

"What's new in the world?" Draco asked Harry.

"Fudge says there is absolutely no possibility that Voldemort has returned and no one should spare Dumbledore's fear mongering any notice." said Harry, passionless.

"Well, if it's in print it must be true." said Draco.

"The McNair family has just made a very large donation the day before. Probably unrelated." said Harry.

After the collapse of Hogwarts a few months ago, the underworld was abuzz with stories that Voldemort had resurrected from the dead in front of 500 witnesses, delegations from every corner of the world. In light of this, some people, like Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, did not want to face the possibility that the most dangerous dark wizard of all time had returned, and were closing their eyes to what they did not want to see. Other people, like Cynthia and Dumbledore were preparing for the struggle by getting the news out and gathering intelligence. However, the largest demographic was people who saw the writing on the wall and were scrambling to join the winning side. The pureblood supremacist groups established in every country worldwide were attracting countless new members.

As Harry went back to reading the paper, Draco turned back to his console. The Console was the newest artifact that the guild had developed. It was a fusion of Magic and muggle technology. On first glance it was a small flat black screen. It closely resembled a muggle machine called an 'eye-fone'. You could touch the pictures on the screen and make them change to things like calculators or this other thing called Tetris. Tetris was addictive. You could pull on one of the corners and the screen would expand to the size of a TV. It would also hover in midair if you wanted. There was no need to mount it on a desk or hold it in your lap when it could just hover at eye level.

Draco's favorite feature was the keyboard. You could type endless documents without ever running out of parchment and there was no ink staining your fingers when you were done. With the touch of an icon, small tiles made of light would appear in front of the users hands, each tile marked with a symbol or letter. By touching one of the tiles, the corresponding character would appear on the document you were typing. When the task was finished, the tiles would simply disappear. It was almost like the machine was partly made of a ghost.

It wasn't widely available yet, but Cynthia had given one to each of the Fifth House. The fifth house was a group of students whose unity transcended the division of the four Hogwarts houses. Draco Malfoy constituted all the Gryffindor members. Hermione Granger was the Ravenclaw of the group. Harry Potter was of Hufflepuff. Marcus Montefiore and Ron Weasley were the Slytherins.

There was the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and Draco looked up in time to see Cynthia Montefiore walk into the room. Cynthia was the adoptive mother of Harry, Marcus, and, for now, Draco. She was the Chairwoman of the Guild, a mass of companies that decided the economic stability of Britain. In spite of the obscene wealth this gave her, her style of dress was strictly practical. She kept her hair severely short. She only wore comfortable shoes. She didn't indulge in any jewelry. Her clothes didn't have a single extra pleat and came in black, white, and shades of gray. In spite of her utilitarian style, she still had impressive physical beauty. Her gentle smile made you feel perfectly at ease.

"Is the initial scan done?" she asked Lab Tech № 1.

"Yes, Chairwoman." he responded as the machines above Harry stopped whirring and buzzing.

"Finally." said Harry, getting off the table and stretching. "I thought I was going to grow roots on that table."

"I have secateurs for that." said Cynthia, she held out a thin book with a shabby black cover to him. She was holding it with a pair of tongs.

"What is that?" Harry asked, knowing full well he didn't want to know.

"It's an item of very powerful Dark Magic." said Cynthia. "Kindly take it."

"Why?" asked a terrified Harry.

"I want to see what will happen." said Cynthia. "Now, _take it._" When she said that, her voice had an odd, resonant quality, like an echo from the bottom of a well. Harry instantly reached out and took the book.

The book glowed bright white the instant he touched it. The light flowed out of the book and down Harry's arm. When it reached his torso it seemed to seep into his skin, like parched earth absorbing rain. After a few seconds, the light was gone and the book looked more boring than ever.

"What just happened?" Harry asked, turning the book over in his hand. He patted his chest experimentally to make sure his insides were still inside.

"That is what I hope to find out." said Cynthia, taking the book back from him, this time using her bare hands. "Hop back on the table."

"Aw, mom." whined Harry. "I was just up there for half an hour."

"I'll get you an ice cream later." offered Cynthia.

Harry stared her down for a moment. "Raspberry?"

"Yes." she agreed.

"With butter?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Alright, fine." she agreed.

"Deal." he said, and got back on the table. The machines whirred to life and began scanning him again.

Cynthia took a seat between Marcus and Draco.

"Where he got a sweet tooth for butter, I'll never know." she said.

"Probably the same place he learned to love Lima beans." said Marcus. "The same thing happened when he grabbed Hufflepuff's Cup, didn't it."

"Indubitably." said Cynthia. "The full body scan might shed light on why he reacts that way with magical objects."

"Will it tell us anything about how he managed to kill Voldemort the first time?" asked Draco. Thirteen years ago, Lord Voldemort had vanished mysteriously and all his supporters had disbanded. The only clue to what had happened was baby Harry at the bottom of a huge crater where the Potter house used to be.

"Maybe." said Cynthia.

"How did the meeting with Fudge go?" asked Marcus.

"He is still unwilling to admit that Voldemort has returned." said Cynthia. "We won't be having any government help. However, both Dumbledore and I are going to continue telling the public that Voldemort has returned."

"There's an article about that in here." said Harry from the table. "'Chairwoman Montefiore Is As Dodgy as Dumbledore'. They said you're using this to scare people into buying your new line of Amulets. And apparently you're backing a Subversive Goblin Group."

"I knew that would come back to bite me." said Cynthia.

"Why are you publicly supporting Dumbledore?" asked Draco.

"Because Voldemort is an immediate threat to life as we know it." said Cynthia.

"I know that." said Draco. "But why are you going right to the public? Attacking an opponent head on isn't your style. You sneak up behind hit and stab it in the kidneys. Then you laugh at it while it dies an agonizing death."

"And when it's dead I steal its wallet." finished Cynthia. "But this opponent requires a different approach. If I contradict the Ministry's stance then I'll be victimized and defamed. When Voldemort makes his grand reappearance, the Ministry will have all that slander visited back on them."

"So, when Voldemort returns no one will trust the Ministry and everyone will rally behind you?" asked Marcus.

"You may move to the front of the class, my son." said Cynthia, smiling proudly.

Draco couldn't help but appreciate her sneakiness. Life with Cynthia was like taking private lessons from Machiavelli.

"What happens if Voldemort is defeat before he reappears publicly?" asked Harry.

Cynthia's smile dropped.

"Don't joke about things like that." she said.

~o!o~

That night, Draco was packing up his backpack. After they had finished scanning Harry, Cynthia had told them to pack up everything they would need, including school supplies. She told them they were going on a trip.

Cynthia was often cryptic about where they were going. Her companies were all over the world. This summer alone they had made trips to Hawaii, Tibet, and Botswana on only a few hours notice that they were leaving.

Draco grabbed his long underwear and crawled inside his backpack. Once inside, he put it on his winter clothes shelf. Then he went back out to get his school books. Draco's backpack was special. On the outside, it looked like it could barely hold three liters of sand, but when you undid the zipper you saw that it was as big as a small shed. It came equipped with selective gravity charms so no matter how much you shook the bag around, the contents wouldn't even fall off the shelves. Harry and Marcus had identical backpacks. They used to own suitcases with similar undetectable extension charms, but the backpacks had more room, and you could carry them hands free. They had also gifted a pack to Hermione and Ron. Ron, who had always had to lug around a gigantic, hand-me-down steamer trunk was so happy he cried.

Harry walked into the room, his backpack in tow.

"Are you still packing?" he asked.

"I don't just throw my stuff in." Draco defended. "I have a method of organizing things."

"I think it just takes you longer to pack all your hair gel." quipped Harry.

"Go to Hell, Harry." said Draco without rancor. He threw a pair of underwear at Harry.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" asked Harry.

"No clue, as always." said Draco, zipping up his pack. "She just told us to meet her on the roof."

They both headed up the stairs to the roof. This was a tall order, since the house they were in was the penthouse of a sky scraper. They came out to on the top of the building and could see London below them, lit up in the night. Marcus and Cynthia were already up there with Marcus's younger brother, Raleigh, and his older brother, Diego.

Cynthia was keeping her eyes trained on the sky. Draco followed her gaze and saw that a storm was descending on the city. In a few minutes they wouldn't be able to see the buildings on either side of them from all the clouds.

"That should be enough cover." she said to Diego. Diego nodded and knelt down to open a duffel bag at his feet. Cynthia gathered her children together.

"I need you all to read this and commit it to memory." she pulled a sheet of parchment out of her jacket and showed them the loopy writing on it.

_The Headquarters of The Order of The Phoenix can be found aboard the HMAS Silvana._

"Now, repeat it back to me." she ordered, folding the parchment back up.

"The Headquarters of The Order of The Phoenix can be found aboard the HMAS Silvana." Draco recited, along with Harry, Marcus, and Raleigh.

The Parchment caught fire in Cynthia's hand and burnt down to cinders. She walked back over to Diego.

"Everyone grab a broom." said Diego, handing one to Draco. "Not you Raleigh," amended Diego, "you ride with me."

"_Aww._" whined Raleigh.

Draco examined the Broom he had been handed. It was metal, and the tail was made of smooth black fibers.

"I'm not really good at flying." said Harry, holding his broom like it was a dangerous weapon. "I'm actually really bad." he admited.

"These brooms are more user friendly." said Diego. "They're made of materials that NASA is using. The shaft is a hollow titanium with honeycomb reinforcement. The tail is carbon fiber bristles."

"You'll also need these." said Cynthia, handing out small glass discs. Draco held one up and looked through it. He realized it was a monocle. He secured it in his left eye. It stayed in place without him having to squint. His right eye could only see the dark clouds that were now covering the city. His left eye, looking through the monocle, could see the buildings. He couldn't see light or color, but he could see the shapes of the buildings and his family standing around him. He could also tell how far away they were. He imagined it was how a bat would see the world using only echolocation.

"Everyone ready." said Cynthia, riding her broom sidesaddle. "Follow me!"

Her broom took off into the clouds. Draco pushed off and followed her. He focused on her shape with his left eye, his right was utterly useless in the foggy darkness. A short distance behind him, he heard Harry swearing frantically under his breath. Draco hoped that Cynthia had charmed the broom to keep him from falling off. Ahead of him, he heard Raleigh on Diego's broom shouting 'Yeehaw!'.

They all stayed in a close group as they followed Cynthia through the cloud bank.

"On our right." said Diego.

Draco looked over to see a small group of flying shapes twenty meters away that might have been wizards on brooms.

"Are they with us?" asked Draco.

"Nope." said Cynthia. "They're trying to follow us."

"They're going the wrong way." commented Marcus.

He was right. They looked like they were actually heading away from them. They must be as good as invisible in the cloud cover.

"I'll make sure." said Cynthia. She made a stabbing motion with her wand. Draco watched in amusement as the shapes started to do loops and death spirals in the air.

Cynthia put on extra speed and they all followed her lead.

After a few minutes of the cold night air stinging his face, Cynthia started to slow down. Draco's unmonocled eye saw the clouds thinning out as they moved above the storm. Since the clouds were blocking all the city lights, he could see the milky way in the sky above.

In front of the galactic background he saw a dark shape dotted with it's own small lights moving towards them. His monocle gave no hints to what it might be, except that it was a long, sleek shape.

Cynthia was flying straight toward it, unafraid. As Draco drew nearer, he figured out what it was. It was a yacht. It was painted jet black and the entire thing had been streamlined for flight. The rotary motors were replaced by large pipes that were emitting a short blue flame. Several smaller pipes were dotting the bottom off the hull. Draco figured that was keeping it aloft.

Cynthia touched down on the deck of the air ship. Diego landed right behind her. The rest of them just crashed onto the deck. As they picked themselves up, the door to the inside of the ship opened. Molly Weasley walked out, her robes whipping around in the high altitude wind. She was followed by a young witch with hair the color of pepto-bismal.

"Welcome Chairwoman!" Molly greeted them as they fled inside. Cynthia handed her the broom.

"Good evening, Molly." she said. "Hello Tonks." she said to the pink haired witch.

"Hello, Chairwoman." said Tonks. "Everyone's in the meeting room, we waited for you."

"Good," said Cynthia, as they all proceeded down the hall of the ship. "Diego, take the children to the lounge then join the rest of us."

They parted ways at the next fork. Cynthia, Molly, and Tonks went left and Diego took the children to the right.

"Mother made a flying _ship_?" asked Harry, disbelief saturating his voice. Draco couldn't believe it either. The largest thing he had ever heard of enchanted to fly was a carpet.

"Yes," said Diego. "If we could go public with it, we could start a whole new industry. As it stands, it is now our secret weapon. A secret base, made invisible by the Fidelius Charm, that is never in the same place twice."

"The applications in sneak attacks are endless." said Marcus as they made their way down a set of stairs.

They came to a door at the end of the hall.

"You'll stay here until dinner time, we won't take long. I'm sure everyone in the order is hungry." said Diego.

Before he could turn to leave, Draco grabbed him in a hug.

"And you're sure the ship won't start falling?" he asked.

"Very sure." Diego soothed, patting his back.

Draco let go and Diego walked off.

"Some brave Gryffindor you are." said Marcus, opening the door. "Afraid of falling a mere hundred thousand feet."

The lounge had one wall entirely made of glass that looked out to the world below. The inside was full of chairs and sofas and there was a flatscreen against one wall.

As they walked in a group of people got up to greet them. Draco looked around and saw that it was the Weasley children. Hermione was also there.

"Draco!" said Ginny, running over to meet him. He hugged her. To his satisfaction, she held on a little longer than was strictly friendly. Marcus greeted Ron, his fellow Slytherin. Harry had Hermione in a tight hug.

When Draco saw Hermione, he did a double take. Since he last saw her, she had cut her hair shorter. Much shorter. In fact, she looked exactly like -

"Cynthia." Marcus said to Hermione. "I see you've discovered the Fountain of Youth."

"Go to Hell, Marcus." said Hermione as she hugged him hello.

"I think it's pretty." said Harry, in her defense.

"Of course it is." said Marcus. "That's not to say I'm not still going to teaser her about it." Marcus's perpetual straight face made it nearly impossible to tell when he was joking.

"Draco!" chorused the Twins as they both grabbed him in a bear hug. All the oxygen was pushed out of his body.

"Can anyone tell us what this place is?" asked Marcus.

"This is the headquarters of The Order of The Phoenix." said Fred as they released Draco. "An organization, founded by Dumbledore, to combat You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort?" asked Marcus.

The Weasleys all flinched when they heard his name. Cynthia had insisted that he use his name on pain of pain. Since they had built up a tolerance to hearing the name they used the privilege to irritate people who were still scared of it.

"Have they made any headway?" asked Harry.

"Pureblood Supremacy groups are gaining support in the Ministry and with the people, so no." admitted Hermione. "And this is a world wide problem, so we can't run away to Australia."

"We honestly don't know much about what's going on." admitted Fred. "They've kept us from spying on the meetings."

"Good thing I brought this." said Draco, and he pulled a radio receiver out of his bag. "Cynthia has been teaching us how to make our own machines with Magic Tech. I made this to pick up feed from a mini microphone."

"Where's the microphone?" asked Marcus.

"I slipped it into Diego's pocket when I hugged him." said Draco.

"You are one devious bastard." Marcus complimented.

"What is Magic Tech?" asked Ginny while Draco set up the receiver.

"It's a fusion of muggle digital electronics and magic." said Hermione. "Like that machine we built two years ago on the ship."

"The one that ended up sinking the ship?" Fred asked.

They all paused at this. Eventually, curiosity won over caution and Draco went back to fiddling with the receiver.

"A digital circuit uses positive and negative charges to perform complex tasks like adding numbers or flying an airplane." Hermione continued. "Magic, which has seven possible charges, not just two like electricity, can move along similar circuits and perform complex operations. By arranging circuits properly, you can make a machine that casts its own spells."

"In this case, it's eavesdropping." said Harry.

They heard a voice coming through the receiver.

"_...and the Dark Lord managed to recruit a further twenty eight members following his proposition to the smith family..." _It was Professor Snape's voice.

"_The Spanish Wizards have also shown compliance with Cervantes offers of wealth in exchange for their loyalty..."_ That was a deep voice he didn't recognize.

"That's Kingsley Shacklebolt." said Fred helpfully. "He's an Auror, same as Tonks."

_"...and there are identical reactions all over Europe." _That was the voice of Dumbledore. "_In the most recent meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, I suggested making proactive laws to protect the muggles and stifle the growing threat of the pureblood supremacists. I was unanimously voted out of the International Confederation of Wizards in the same meeting."_

They heard a groan on the other end of the line.

"_This implies that the pureblood supremacists have an unprecedented level of control. The International Confederation of Wizards is the organization that enforces the International Statute of Secrecy. They have the power to repeal it!"_

_ "Calm down Nymphadora." _Draco recognized the voice of Professor Lupin.

"_Don't call me Nymphadora!"_

"_Our Ministry,"_ cut in Arthur Weasley, "_has finalized the repealing of several laws that were put in place specifically to protect muggles. It was made official today. Moreover, Minister Fudge has announced he will be creating a new office within the Ministry specifically to regulate the production of muggle weapons. These will include, but are not limited to, firearms, tanks, jets, and missiles."_

_ "What's a fireleg?" _asked Tonks.

"_The ultimate goal of the Office of Interference is to reduce the threat the muggles can pose to wizard kind. Which basically means, they want the muggles to be helpless when they take over." _finished Arthur.

"_They other Ministries of Europe are not enacting such laws. Voldemort may have promised them glory and power, but they don't want to take a leap of faith. They want to see what happens here before they try it themselves."_ said Shacklebolt.

_ "So, the world looks to Britain for it's future."_ said the voice of Cynthia. _"And I'm afraid I have more bad news. One of my artificers has gone missing."_

_ "That's terrible."_ said Dumbledore._ "Were you close?"_

_ "I didn't even know he existed before yesterday, but he was working in the division of Superconductor Wands."_

Draco knew what those were, and that was trouble. There were wands and there were Superconductor Wands. A regular wand had a Synchro rate of 20%. That is to say, it could channel 20% of a wizard's magic. A Superconductor Wand was made of metals and crystals that could better conduct magical energy and it could channel 60% of wizard's magic. Draco had a superconductor wand: Cobalt, Magnesium spiral along the side, core of Aquamarine. The first time he'd used it he'd been able to levitate a forklift like it was a paper plane. If the dark wizards, all of them, had that kind of power, the damage would be catastrophic.

"_Does this mean they can start making Superconductor Wands?_" asked Dumbledore. "_And if so, how many?_"

"_What I think I know_," started Cynthia, "_is that he knows the general principles behind making a superconductor wand. The principles of conduction will escape most wizards, but a muggle first year chemistry student will tell them all they need to know. They just need to kidnap a few more key specialists before they have all they need to start designing their own superconductor wands_."

"_Design?_" asked Shacklebolt. "_Not produce?_" he sounded hopeful.

"_That's where it gets tricky_." said Cynthia. _"For example, my wand is Adamantium, Platinum spiraling, with an Orichalcum core. Those ingredients are difficult to come by. Expensive, at the very least._"

"_So, there is, at least, a limit to how fast they could be produced?_" asked Dumbledore.

"_Definitely. The core of every Superconductor Wand is a crystal, such as a diamond. It has to be one complete diamond, or it won't work. You can't stick a bunch of small diamonds in a row and call it a day."_ said Cynthia.

"_So you would need a diamond that's two millimeters wide and twenty-eight centimeters long?_" asked Snape.

"_Exactly_." answered Cynthia.

_"Where have you been getting crystals like that?_" asked Tonks.

_"I've been buying them from the Goblins."_ answered Cynthia. "_Their race alone knows the spells capable of manipulating metals and precious stones_."

_"They'll sell those cores to You-Know-Who the first chance they get."_ said Tonks.

_"You mean Voldemort?"_ asked Cynthia. You could hear them flinch. _"They'll sell those cores to him the minute he comes up with the 500 Galleons a piece, and not a minute sooner."_

_ "You can say what you want about them, but they are reliable." _said Dumbledore.

They heard a sound like a door opening and closing.

"_Gentleman, ladies, co-conspirators,_" Cynthia said, somberly. "_I had hoped we would never have to come to this but it is time to implement the Liger Initiative."_

The kids all exchanged confused glances. Draco had never heard of such a thing, and the others didn't look any more clued in than he was.

"_I know you have all raised objections to this plan,_" Cynthia continued, "_but it seems to be the only option open to us. Nothing else is certain secure our victory. We must begin breeding super soldiers immediately."_

Draco shivered. He wasn't sure how he felt about birthing children just use as soldiers. At first blush, it felt pretty icky.

"_We have all the prime breeding candidates on the ship._" said Cynthia. "_Hermione and Draco are have the best combination of traits to produce ideal soldiers."_

The children collectively jumped away from the receiver in horror. Draco looked across at Hermione, who had a look of terrified disgust on her face he was sure was mirroring his own.

_"Hermione can start gestating children at any time._" said Cynthia. "_We would have better results if she had sextuplets_."

Hermione looked like she was about to faint.

The door to the lounge burst open. They all jumped away, most of them fell over each other. Draco eventually turned to see Cynthia standing in the doorway. She was holding one hand up to her mouth. Draco saw she was holding his mic between her fingers. Dumbledore was standing behind her, not bothering to conceal his grin of sadistic glee.

She spoke into the microphone and they heard her voice echoing out of the receiver. "Time for Dinner."

~o!o~

They were all seated around a long table in the grand dinning room. Draco was seated between Tonks, who's hair was now blue and a tall black wizard with an earing who had introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry was seated next to Professor Snape. The two were scooted so far away from each other they were eating out of their neighbors plates. Poor Marcus was seated next to an extremely knarled, scarred, old wizard with a glass eye that was three sizes too big. Marcus didn't seem bothered by the constantly swiveling glass eye or the chasms and crags that passed for a face and ate his cock-a-leaky soup peacefully. It was unnatural, the things he was unfazed by.

"I like what you've done with your hair, Hermione." said Cynthia.

"I'm still not speaking to you." said Hermione into her caserole.

"Is the castle going to be ready in time for school?" Marcus asked Dumbledore.

"Unfortunately, the castle still isn't fully repaired." said Dumbledore. "To be perfectly honest, it isn't even partially repaired. Chairwoman Montefiore has offered to let us use one of her buildings."

"'ich b'd'n?" asked Ron.

"Do not speak with your mouth full." said Cynthia.

Ron swallowed and tried again. "Which building?"

"This year Hogwarts will be held in London at № 30 St. Mary Axe." said Cynthia.

Hermione spit out whatever was in her mouth. Bits of casserole landed on Lupin.

"Since when do you own the Gherkin Building?" she asked.

"The Gherkin Building?" asked Draco.

"The Gherkin Building is a major part of the London skyline." said Hermione.

"You can see it from our house." piped up Raleigh.

"How can a witch own a muggle skyscraper?" asked a shoddy wizard on the other end of the table.

"It's not a magical building, Mundungus." said Cynthia. "It's owned by one of my Muggle Fronts."

"What's a Muggle Front?" asked Mundungus.

"It's a pivotol articulating point in wizard economics." said Cynthia. Understanding dawned on no one's face.

Cynthia rubbed her temple. "Everyone knows Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions."

There was a murmur of assent from around the table.

"And you all know before they were robes she started out with just sheets of fabric." she said.

Again, the people nodded and murmured yes.

"And before that fabric was in sheets it was chunks of hair attached to a sheep somewhere in Wales." she said.

Again they nodded.

"And none of you have ever heard of any self respecting wizard stooping to herding sheep for a living." she said.

More nodding.

"A Muggle Front is used when muggle's have something that wizards need but aren't willing to do themselves." Cynthia continued. "In the case of textiles a wizard would set up a muggle company. Let's call it Paul."

"Paul?" asked Molly.

"Yes. We can pretend it's a very clever acronym." said Cynthia. "Paul is set up as a company under the muggle government. It pays taxes. It has a billing address. It can buy goods in bulk from other (real) muggle companies. It buys 1200 yards of blanc fabric with muggle money from a muggle textile mill. Real muggle companies need hours and gallons of dye to put patterns to fabric, however a wizard can just wave his wand and he has 600 yards of argyle in under a minute. Paul sells the argyle for a pittance and still makes a killing because he didn't exert any effort to dye it. He sells the fabric he didn't dye to Madame Malkins for wizard money and when the dust settles he has more than enough muggle money to buy 1200 more yards of fabric and enough wizard money to live comfortably."

"That's bloody brilliant." said Ron.

"Yes, and it can be a real money spinner, too." said Cynthia. "Most wizards would walk a mile out of their way to avoid muggles. I get paid my weight in gold buy turnips just so purebloods don't have to consort with mere humans. Of course, running a Muggle Front is more complicated than it used to be. These days orders, are being placed over the Internet. I have to have bank accounts set up to make payments electronically. I have to register with the health department. The union wants to meet with me bi-monthly. And I get a court summons if I'm an hour late mailing out my tax documents."

"What?" asked Tonks. Draco could ask the same question. It's not that he didn't understand the words, he was just having trouble with the sentences.

"Exactly." said Cynthia. "Most wizards can't work with current muggle technology. It's not like the old days when they were perfectly happy to just mail in hand written orders."

"I think we could do it." said Fred and George. "Are you taking on any apprentices?"

"Always." said Cynthia. "Let me know the minute you've graduated and I'll take you right on."

"We were kind of hoping to leave early." said Fred.

"If you took us on we could earn money to start our joke shop." said George.

"You are not leaving Hogwarts to start a joke shop!" said Molly. "Try that and I'll turn you both into rubber chickens."

"She means it, too." said Mundungus, laughing. "She nearly took my head off when I left guard duty early to pick up on an offer of second hand cauldrons. I never saw anyone do so much damage with a scouring charm. Nearly as scary as Ms. Montefiore."

"Thank you, Mundungus." said Cynthia smiling gratefully.'

"I was there when she put all those death eaters up on tent poles." said Mundungus, smiling fondly at the memory. "Hey, Montefiore. Why is it you hold your wand like a dagger." he picked up his fork and made overhand stabbing motions to demonstrate his point.

Diego sat a little stiffer in his seat. Marcus looked at his mother out of the corner of his eye.

"When I was a student in Hogwarts, during my second year I was beaten up." said Cynthia. "I was beaten and stomped on until most of my bones were broken because I was a muggle born."

Mundungus's jovial smile slipped off his face. Everyone else looked horrified. Draco felt a burning pain in his chest. If he ever found the people who did that to his moth...to Cynthia, he'd hex the teeth out of their heads.

"The healer working in the hospital wing at the time did not have the skill necessary to heal my wrists properly, so I could no longer do the hand movements to cast spells properly. I found that if I held my wand the other way I could mimic the wrist movements by manipulating my shoulder and elbow. I practiced casting spells that way and later that month I confronted my attackers."

"What happened?" asked Tonks.

"They took the rest of that year off school." said Cynthia. "Medical leave. Eventually, I got the bones of my wrists healed properly," she circumducted her wrist to demonstrate, "but I never got out of the habit of dueling overhand."

"I can't believe they attacked you just for being a muggle born." said Molly, who was crying slightly. "You were so brave."

"Thank you." said Cynthia. "I was also studious, and I made Head Girl." she turned to face Fred and George. "And I finished all seven years."

"Good for you," said the knarled wizard sitting beside Marcus, "getting those scoundrels back. Hey, you." he said, his glass eye turning to face Draco. "Who are you? You look familiar."

"Draco." he said. "Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"_Lucius Malfoy's Son?_" said the knarled wizard. "We let a Slytherin son of a Death eater in here?" he asked in consternation.

"Hey!" said Fred and George standing up. "He's in Gryffindor!"

"And he's _my _son, _pro temp, _Moody." said Cynthia in her not-to-be-messed-with voice. Draco had never felt so glad to have their support now that it was coming between him and Moody.

Moody seemed to settle down. "Malfoys have _always_ been in Slytherin." he said, trying to make sense of things.

"Well, I'm in Gryffindor." said Draco.

"Same here." said Ginny, raising her hand.

"And us." chorused the Twins.

"And us." put in Arthur and Molly.

"Us, too." Dumbledore and McGonagall joined in.

"I'm in Slytherin." said Marcus from his seat next to Moody. Moody recoiled like Marcus had just turned into a snake.

"So was I." Snape drolled.

"Me, too." said Ron.

"A _Weasley_ in _Slytherin." _said Moody in disbelief.

"I was a Slytherin, also." said Cynthia.

"A _muggle born _Slytherin?" said Moody, who must have felt like the ship was spinning out of control.

"I was in Hufflepuff." said Tonks.

"I'm in Hufflepuff." piped up Harry.

"Uh, I was, too." said Moody. Draco really didn't know what to make of that.

"I'm a Ravenclaw." said Hermione.

"That was my house!" said Mundungus. Hermione looked very dissapointed.

"I never went to Hogwarts." said Diego.

"Me neither." said Shacklebolt.

"So, all five categories are agreed then." said Cynthia. "Voldemort is an absolute tit."

"Agreed," said all the people who hadn't flinched.

"I'd like to propose a toast." said Cynthia, raising her glass. Draco picked up his glass automatically. "To Lord Voldemort." she said.

"Go die in a fire." they all chanted in response.


	31. Litigation

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 2: Litigation**

_"Trials are too important to be decided by juries."_

* * *

><p>Draco spent the rest of the month with his friends on board the HMAS Silvana. He got a thrill waking up every morning and looking out his window to see Britain laid out miles below him. What was even more thrilling, was he got to see Ginny at Breakfast. He saw her mother and father at the same time, so it was not as cozy as he would like, but it was a privilege none the less.<p>

He found the Weasley family had been living on the ship for some time. The knarled wizard, who's name was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had also taken up residents on the ship. He said he preferred the better security, and that his old house was open to a back-door assault, whatever that meant.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Professor Lupin were also living on board so they could devote more time to Order business.

In spite of the numerous people living on board, the ship was not crowed. Everyone had their own room. Most corridors were spacious enough for three people to walk side by side. The Silvana was actually a very large ship, which made the fact that it was flying even more incredible. At one point, Draco asked how she did it.

"To start with," she had told him, pulling up a blueprint of the Silvana on her console, "I made it out of lightweight material. It's mostly titanium and carbon fiber, like your new broom. For a lot of things we had to use conventional materials, but the overall weight difference is still significant. The next step was to put weightless charms on components of the ship. The whole ship actually weighs less than a full semi-truck.

"I used arithmancy to calculate the locations of the weight bearing points of the chassis and placed hundreds of small flying charms where they would have the optimum effect. After all that, the propulsion system is all that's necessary to make the ship actually fly. I estimate, in clear weather, it can do 1000 kilometers per hour."

"Is this even legal." Draco had asked.

"Arthur says he won't tell anyone if I don't." said Cynthia.

Draco had made a mental note never to talk to anyone about anything ever again.

The week before school started, all their school books were delivered by Diego. They were all a little upset that they didn't get to go to Diagon Alley. Cynthia appeased them by mooring the Silvana a thousand feet above Diagon Alley.

Draco had just left the lounge, where the Twins were staring forlornly at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and was making his way to the galley. He walked in to see Professor Snape ladling a smoking concoction out of a cauldron into a goblet that Lupin was holding out. Lupin had an expression on his face like Snape was dishing out undercooked maggots.

"Thank you, Severus." said Lupin. His grateful tone was at odds with the revolted expression on his face.

"I've made a whole cauldron full." drawled Snape. "Just let me know if you need more." Snape swept out of the galley, pausing only to give Draco a pat on the shoulder. Severus Snape was actually Draco's godfather. In spite of the indelible animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the two were still on affectionate terms.

"What_ is _that?" asked Draco, sliding into the seat next to Lupin.

"Wolfsbane Potion." said Lupin, gagging slightly. "I have to take it regularly in the weeks leading up to the full moon. It's revolting and sugar makes it useless. Still, it's better than loosing my mind monthly. I get quite enough of that from Tonks."

"You're a werewolf?" asked Draco, surprised. "While we were in Hogwarts, you never missed a day of class."

"That year," said Lupin, "Hogwarts was held deep underground. The first month I was there I drank my potion and prepared for a transformation that never came. The curse of the moon couldn't reach me down there. I still took my potion every month. Better safe than sorry." he let out a deep sigh. "That was the best job I ever had."

"No offense," said Draco, "but that was the worst school year ever."

"That's how it always is." said Lupin, swirling his potion around his goblet, willing it to taste less like excrement. "You can choose from six of one or half a dozen of the other."

"So, when you teach at Hogwarts this year -" started Draco.

"I will not be returning to Hogwarts this year." Lupin cut in. "A sky scraper in a big city is no place for a werewolf."

"But you were the best Defense teacher we ever had!" protested Draco. "The last one was a fraud, and the one before that blew up the castle!"

"As long as you apply yourself, you and the rest of the Fifth House can learn all you need to know even if a brick wall was teaching the class." said Lupin. "You all seem to have a knack for independent study."

"I'll miss you." said Draco after a pause.

Lupin put a hand on the back of Draco's neck.

"Just because I'm not working at Hogwarts doesn't mean I'm not still a teacher." he said. "I'm always ready to answer any questions you have for me. Whether it's how to deal with an Acromantula or what to do if you like a girl, I'm here."

"What _do_ you do if you like a girl?" asked Draco, his mind wandering to a certain red-head.

"Good question." said Lupin and he leaned forward. Draco leaned in, too; ready to receive secret information.

"Go ask your mother." said Lupin, breaking into a grin as Draco scowled. He trusted Cynthia with his life, but there were somethings you didn't want to risk.

They heard something like an explosion above them. They both jumped to their feet. Draco ran out of the galley. Lupin grudgingly downed his potion before chasing after him.

As Draco ran to where he heard the ruckus, he heard a torrent of screaming. It was definitely Cynthia. She was the only person Draco knew who could swear in nineteen languages. As he approached the door to her suite, she was exhausting her Afrikaans.

He came through the doors to find her sitting calmly behind her desk, reading over a letter.

"Hello, Draco." she said. She must have heard him running down the hall. It was kind of creepy how she could compose herself at a moments notice. You could never be sure exactly what she was doing before you walked in.

"What happened?" he asked, as Lupin came in behind him.

"I've been summoned to appear before the Wizengamot." said Cynthia, waving the letter at them. "I'm being sued for grand theft and patent infringement."

"What?" said Draco, stunned.

"They have compiled a list of some 200 people who claim I stole their inventions and have been marketing them." said Cynthia. "I have to appear in court to be formally charged and sentenced."

"_What_?" said Draco, now panicking.

"I'm not going to be sentenced that day." Cynthia placated him. "The trial will drag on for months. The ministry, along with our enemies are trying to discredit and impoverish me in the same strike. If they find that I am guilty of stealing other people's inventions, I will have to pay them back the money I made selling them."

"How much is that?" asked Lupin.

"Everything." said Cynthia. "And then some."

Hermione ran into the suite next, followed closely by Ron and Harry.

"You're being sued?" asked Hermione, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet. Her tone was not far from a shriek.

"Lovely." said Cynthia, striding over and taking the paper. "How nice of Cornelius to inform me a whole nanosecond before going to the press."

Everyone was gathering in the suite now.

"This is a very serious blow." Draco heard Lupin whisper. "We stood a chance before with all of Cynthia's resources."

"We still have a chance." Moody growled. "Last time around, You-Know-Who was killed by a bloody one-year-old."

"Oh," crowed Cynthia, who had now switched to a different article halfway through the paper, "it gets better. Dumbledore also got a court summons."

Dumbledore walked in, right on cue. He was holding a letter.

"Yes, I've been summoned on charges of academic and professional misconduct." he said.

"What does that mean?" Draco asked Hermione.

"Whatever they want." Hermione answered.

"I don't need to tell you," said Dumbledore, taking a seat, "that this has very serious implications."

"We'll be alright Dumbledore." said Cynthia, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"They could take away my Chocolate Frog card." Dumbledore said forlornly.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake." said Cynthia, pulling her hand away and rolling her eyes. "We have bigger concerns."

"You say that," said Dumbledore, "because you don't have a Chocolate Frog Card."

Cynthia glared at him. "For now."

~o!o~

The day before school started, Draco and the rest of the fifth house were sitting in the viewing gallery of the court room in the Ministry of Magic. It was a huge cavernous room made completely out of black marble and despair.

Cynthia and Dumbledore were seated in front of a panel of judges. Five rows of judges, all decked out in resplendent robes. They were, most of them, glaring down at the accused. Some of them were looking apprehensive, like they didn't know how they got roped into this.

Cynthia and Dumbledore looked perfectly calm. Dumbledore had the same perpetual twinkle in his eye.

"Are you quite sure," boomed Minister Fudge in the front row of the judges, "that you do not wish to change your plea?"

"For the twelfth time," replied Cynthia evenly, "Not Guilty. The charges levied against me are bogus."

"I am also unconvinced of my guilt." said Dumbledore.

"Very well." said Fudge, drawing himself up to his full height: four feet. "The full criminal trial will proceed against Cynthia Harmony Montefiore-"

"Harmony?" Ron chuckled, in spite of the seriousness.

"Zip it, Billius." said Marcus.

"- and Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore. Effective immediately, all their assets are frozen and under the control of the Ministry. Dumbledore, for the duration of the litigation, your position as headmaster of Hogwarts is suspended."

Dumbledore moved to stand up, but Cynthia's arm shot out and pushed him back down. Dumbledore stayed seated, but his expression was severe.

"We will begin hearing testimony on September seventeenth. Court is adjourned." Fudge pounded his gavel and the whole room started moving around. The Crowd that was sitting in the viewing gallery pulled out cameras and note pads, trying to get a shot at the accused. As Draco followed Cynthia out of the court room, he was blinded by all the flashes going off. He had to hold on to Marcus's shirt tail and hoped he knew where he was going.

He could barely make out any of the questions with all the reporters talking at once. He caught a few remarks for which he would be happy to hex them. However, he didn't want anyone thinking Cynthia raised violent children.

Eventually, They were all in the safety of the lift and Diego pulled the grate close. They spent a few blissful moments of silence as the elevator jostled them to the entry hall. Draco looked up to see how Cynthia was doing. She had an unperturbed expression on her face, reminiscent of Marcus's permanent deadpan. Dumbledore was glaring dangerously at the lift doors.

Draco reached over and squeezed Cynthia's hand. She gently returned the pressure.

The moment was over too soon. The doors of the lift opened and they were greeted by a wall of cameras.

~o!o~

"They could have at least used a better picture of me." said Cynthia, reading the Daily Prophet. It was the first day of term and the ship was headed toward № 30 St. Mary Axe. Normally, they would be dropped off at Kings Cross Station, but Hogwarts was now being held in London and it was easier to go to the school directly.

Draco watched the building approach them out of the lounge window. He was already in his school robes and had his backpack strapped to his shoulders. The others were standing around him, ready to go. The Twins looked particularly sulky that they had been guilted into going back to school.

"This is actually a good picture of you Draco." she said, turning the picture toward him. Draco smiled as he watched his photo-self feed a reporter his own camera.

"I didn't actually do that." he said.

"There's no accounting for how a magical picture will act." said Cynthia. "I have a picture of me getting eaten by a polar bear. When we took the picture, all I did was ride it down the field."

"Are you gonna be alright?" Fred asked Cynthia. "With them taking all your stuff?"

"I'll be fine, dear one." said Cynthia. "They could only confiscate the money and property they know about. This ship is untouchable, for example. I also have money tucked away and buried in various places. Not as much as I'd like, but enough to work with. I've also been withholding a lot of experimental technology they'll never get their claws into."

"Who's gonna be headmaster now that Dumbledore is suspended?" asked George.

"You'll find that out in a short while." said Cynthia. "As I understand, the stand-in will be the Defense Against Dark Arts Teacher."

"At least if the school gets attacked by Death Eaters," reasoned Hermione, "the person in charge will be capable of protecting us."

"Yes, dear." said Cynthia. "That's right. Look for the advantages."

"It's probably some Auror." said Ron. "Maybe he'll teach us to duel."

"I expect you all to continue practicing your dueling." Cynthia said. This imperative was directed at the owners of the Superconductor Wands. "We might need your skills sooner than you think. Also, I don't want you showing off your consoles."

"Why?" asked Draco.

"Because it's easier to keep them secret than to get permission to have them." said Cynthia. "It's exactly the same policy I have with this ship."

They were right up against the building now. It looked like a colossal Fabergé egg. Draco heard a metalic clank and the window of the lounge slid away. They all stood back. At the same time, one of the windows in the building slid down. A gang plank extended from the side of the ship, connecting it with the building.

Molly and Arthur hugged their children goodbye. Cynthia and Diego kissed Harry, Marcus, and Draco. Hermione didn't jump in line to get a kiss from Diego as she usually did. She was the first person to set out across the gang plank into the building.

Draco went across the plank in careful, measured steps. The plank wasn't narrow, or flimsy, but when you were that high up you took extra precautions. He imagined he could see the other students being dropped off at the main entrance if he looked down. He would never look down, of course. Not for all the gold in Gringotts.

A few nerve wracking minutes later, they were all inside the building. The gang plank was retracted, and they looked back to see the adults waving goodbye as the glass slid slowly back into place.

"Work hard!" called Cynthia. "Do your best! Stay vigilant! And, if it becomes necessary, save the world!"

The glass panel thudded into place. They watched a little longer as the ship took off and flew away. When it was out of sight, they all headed downstairs to to the Great Hall.

~o!o~

The Great Hall was actually midway up the sky scraper. It took up the whole floor, giving the dinners a 360° view of the city. Instead of long tables the floor was covered in dozens of smaller round tables. By the time they got to the Hall, they students had divided up the floor into the four houses. The Slytherins sat in one quarter, Gryffindors in another, Ravenclaws in another, Hufflepuffs in the last. Ginny and the Twins went off to the Gryffindor quarter. Draco, Harry, Marcus, Ron, and Hermione went to the last empty table and all sat down together. They were all from different houses, but they stood united: The Fifth House.

"Hem Hem." Draco heard. It was a small voice, but everyone at all the tables perked up. The voice must have been carrying magically. Draco looked around and saw a platform raising in the middle of the room. The four heads of houses were standing on it: Professor McGonagall of Gryffindor, Professor Flitwick of Ravenclaw, Professor Sprout of Hufflepuff, and Professor Snape of Slytherin. Standing with them was a squat, curly haired witch, that looked almost exactly like a toad. She was wearing a fluffy pink sweater and had a small black bow in her hair.

"Hem Hem." the witch said again. "Greetings. I am Headmistress Dolores Jane Umbridge. I am so pleased to see all of you here. And I'm happy to see all your faces smiling back at me." Even at this distance, Draco could see Professor McGonagall rolling her eyes. So, this was the upstart replacing Dumbledore. He went out on a limb and guessed that she wasn't an Auror.

"Some of you may have mixed feelings about the suspension of Albus Dumbledore. He was a beloved headmaster. However, I believe I can fill the void he left in your lives.

"Hogwarts has a long, proud history of educating the best and brightest witches and wizards in Britain. Every Headmaster has brought something special to the school, and the changes they made inspired the next generation to greatness.

"I am happy to announce I will continue the proud tradition of inspiration and innovation. I have spent the summer working with ministry trained wizards who specialize in education and we have developed a new, more sophisticated, better structured approach to academics. The Ministry, who have donated this new building for your benefit, have also footed the bill for this new system to help you learn."

Draco heard Marcus blow a gust out of his nostrils. His face wouldn't betray it, but Draco could tell Marcus was incensed. While it was true that № 30 St. Mary Axe now belonged to the Ministry, Cynthia had volunteered the building months ago. This old toad was taking credit for someone else's work. He wondered if it was just Gilderoy Lockhart in a wig.

"I invite all of you to embark with me on this new chapter in Hogwarts history. Tomorrow, new lessons begin!" she held her hands above he head.

The hall was quiet. Umbridge's eyes shifted around the hall. It occurred to Draco that she was expecting applause. Snape grudgingly unfolded his arms and began a steady clap. Some of the other Slytherins followed his lead. The other three heads of house, joined him with equal enthusiasm. Soon, the hall was full of muted applause.

The Draco's surprise, Marcus also joined in the applause. The rest of the fifth house turned to stare at him.

"Never attack head on." he said simply. That was the Slytherin way. You waited until they weren't looking and stabbed them in the brain stem. Then you stole their watch when the body finished twitching.

It wasn't Draco's preferred mode of attack. Gryffindors were daring and brave. They didn't mince words or beat around the bush. However, he joined in the applause as Umbridge's gaze swept over their table.

Let her have this one victory. She was going to be handed a thousand defeats.


	32. No Child Runs Ahead

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 3: No Child Runs Ahead**

_"The secret to happiness is to lower your expectations."_

* * *

><p>"What," asked Draco, looking down at his school books, "the hell," he flipped through the pages of the Potions book, "is this shit?"<p>

"These are what passes for textbooks now." said Hermione.

The Fifth House was gathered in the library. They had just been handed their schedules at breakfast and had heard a surprising edict from the Headmistress: everyone was to return to their rooms to collect their new textbooks that had been left on their beds by the house elves.

She explained that with the suspension of Dumbledore, the required textbooks had changed. The ministry provided the new ones (to be billed later) that were consistent with the revised lesson plan Umbridge was instituting. It must have been some lesson plan if every single year needed different books for every class.

The books were laid out in front of them on one of the library table. You couldn't really call them books. They were a each a slim stack of paper bound on one side with metal clips. The covers were pink card stock that were stamped with unimaginative names like 'Transfiguration: Year Four' and 'Charms: Year Four'. It gave the overall impression that someone had made the entire course in their parents basement with a second-hand printing press.

"At least they'll be easy to carry around." said Ron, leafing through his Potions book.

"There's no way this book can cover a whole year of curriculum." said Hermione.

"Oh, yes they can." said Marcus holding up a book entitled 'Curriculum'.

They all looked through their own stacks and each found an identical book. Draco flipped his open and found an index for each of the classes. He flipped to page 15 with the heading 'Charms'.

"Week One," he read aloud, "Learning to use Charms responsibly. Homework: Four feet on Personal Responsibility in Spell Casting."

The page read out every lesson for the weeks of both Semesters. The fifteen weeks before Christmas break were filled with less than seven lessons. Some, like 'Levitation' were spread out over two weeks. It gave them two weeks to study for exams.

"Sanitation charms?" Hermione said incredulously. "A week for sanitation charms? Flitwick covered everything for this semester on our first week of school last year."

"Maybe it's more in depth." said Ron. "Like they'll teach us how to do delicates or get blood out of upholstery."

"That's a good skill to learn." Marcus admitted. "But it's more likely that it will be a lot of repetition. The whole first month of Potions is properties of herbs. We can already list those in our sleep. This may be the very first class that _Snape _falls asleep in."

"Why is everything suddenly easier?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Never look a gift House Elf in the mouth." said Ron. "We'll have buckets of free time."

"You're right." said Hermione. "We can work ahead independently."

They all looked at her blankly.

"Or practice dueling." she suggested.

"Yes, let's do that." said Draco. Marcus, Ron, and Harry all consented along with him. If you have the choice between having dangerous spells shot at you and working in the library, well, that's one of the easier choices in life.

~o!o~

First period of the day was Potions, which the Gryffindors had with Hufflepuff. Draco choose a seat at a table with Harry and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Some of the students were already unpacking their potion kits, but Draco new from reading the curriculum that they wouldn't be brewing anything until late October.

Snape was seated at the front of the class leaning with his elbows on his knees. He had the same expression Lupin had as he was about to drink down his Wolfsbane potion.

"Put all your ingredients away." he said finally. "Today, we will be memorizing herbal properties." His face screwed up. "Starting with Chamomile."

He spent the rest of the period writing notes on the blackboard. It was entirely information they had learned their first year. Harry had given up taking notes halfway through the class and was just writing Hermione's name over and over in the margins of his parchment.

Ideally, they would be typing up their notes on their consoles, or just setting up the camera to record the lecture, but they were under orders to keep their consoles under wraps. It was a shame because Draco had the burning desire to play solitaire by the time Snape moved on to the applications of Peppermint.

~o!o~

Second period was Transfiguration, which Gryffindor took with Slytherin. The two houses had an infamous rivalry. Both houses picked a half of the room and scooted their desks away from each other. The exception was Neville Longbottom, Draco, Ron, and Marcus in the front row. Transfiguration wasn't Neville's strong suite. Draco would typically take pity on him and correct his spell casting.

Professor McGonagall was in her chair with her head face-down on her desk. She still didn't move after the bell rang to start class.

"Professor?" asked Draco tentatively.

She picked her head up and looked at him. Draco had never seen her with such a defeated expression.

"Today," she started, "in accordance with the Ministry instituted education reform, we will be turning a bottle opener into a churchkey."

"Aren't those the same thing?" asked Marcus.

"That's what I thought." said McGonagall, then she began passing out bottle openers. She then stood at the front of the class and went over the transfiguration process. It sound stiff and formal, like someone else had wrote the script she was reading.

It took Draco less than half a minute to turn the bottle opener into a churchkey. The only difference was that the handle was longer. Neville got it a few minutes later.

"I got it!" he said. He looked very pleased with him self. There was a thud as McGonagall's head banged back down on her desk.

~o!o~

Third Period was History of Magic. Draco slept through it.

~o!o~

"I can not believe this." said Hermione as they all sat down for lunch in the Great Hall, which had been popularly rechristened 'The Great Floor'. "Charms this morning was just going over basic safety. We learned all that our first day in, and we're going to be rehashing it all week."

"Transfiguration isn't any better." said Marcus. "We're relearning everything we've done before, but slower."

"We were reviewing the multiplication tables in Arithmancy." said Harry, as he stirred his ravioli around. "Numbers 0 to 5."

"This is preposterous." said Hermione slamming her hands down on the table. "There is no good reason why we should be learning at Goyle Speed. I'm going to ask Headmistress Umbridge to explain why the new curriculum is so primitive."

"You'll get your chance." said Draco. "Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are taking Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch."

"Just so we're clear," said Marcus, "if you get on her bad side on the first day, I don't know you."

~o!o~

Draco arrived in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to find Hermione was already seated at the front of the room. She already had her quill, parchment, textbook, and wand out; the very picture of an attentive student.

Draco knew she was planning on confronting the Headmistress, so he took the seat beside her in a show of proactive solidarity.

Soon, the rest of the class filed in and took there seats. Professor Umbridge walked in as the bell rang and went to stand at the front of the class. He large cheery smile was a sharp contrast to the depressed expressions he'd seen on his other teachers.

"Good afternoon, class." she chimed. She didn't say anything else for a minute. "Please answer: Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge. Let's try that again. Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge." the class answered.

"Good," she said, "I'm glad to see you all came prepared, but you will not need your wands today."

Draco put his wand away. Unless they were about to watch an instructional duel, this was probably going to be a boring class.

Umbridge waved her wand and writing appeared on the white board.

**Course Aims:**

_Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic._

_Learning to recognize situations when defensive magic can be legally used._

_Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use._

Draco felt he had a pretty good handle on the first item. Diego's dueling lessons had taught him a great deal about shields and energy redirection among other things.

He wasn't sure about the second item. As far as he knew, you could defend yourself when you were being attacked. If you came across some one else being attacked, you could leap to their defense. If you came across two people dueling, you could pick who you wanted to side with and join the fight.

The third item seemed to be entirely legal jargon, and he didn't spare it a second thought.

"If you'll all please open your textbooks," she said, "and begin work on Chapter one. There will be no need to talk."

Hermione raised her hand as everyone else opened their books. Umbridge looked over at her and shook her head. This didn't deter Hermione who kept her hand up. Umbridge was forced to acknowledge her after the class stopped paying attention to their books and were looking at Hermione.

"Do you have a question about the chapter?" she asked in her girlishly sweet voice.

"I have a question about the course aims." Hermione corrected.

"The course aims are perfectly self explanatory if you'll just reread them." said Umbridge. Draco saw Hermione's hand clench on the desk.

"They don't say anything about _using _magic to defend ourselves." she said.

Draco reread the course aims. Using magic was almost definitely absent from the list. Although, for all he knew, it could be encoded in item three.

"It is the position of the Ministry that a theoretical approach will be sufficient for your education." said Umbridge.

"We're not going to be using any magic?" asked Seamus Finnegan.

"Of course not." said Umbridge laughing. "What could possibly happen in my class that would warrant the use of defensive magic?"

"You mean to tell me," said Grace Augustine, a Ravenclaw, "that the first time we'll actually use these spells will be when we need them?"

"What could you possibly need to defend yourself from?" asked Umbridge. "What is out there waiting to attack children?"

"Werewolves." supplied Dean Thomas.

"Banshees." said Parvati Patil.

"Pederasts." said Grace.

"Voldemort." said Hermione.

While most everyone else in the class flinched, Umbridge seemed perfectly at ease.

"Listen very carefully Mr. Granger." said Umbridge.

"It's Miss." said Hermione, confused.

"Oh." said Umbridge, temporarily embarrassed. "I beg your pardon, the short hair threw me." Hermione reached up and fingered her locks, a look of humiliation on her face.

"Anyway, Ms. Granger," Umbridge recovered, "and all the rest of you. You have been told by certain malicious people that Lord Voldemort has returned. This is a _lie_. You have the guarantee of the Ministry that you are perfectly safe and there is no imminent threat from a long dead dark wizard."

"If this is the same Ministry," said Draco, "that tried to solve the Loch Ness monster issue by vanishing the Loch, I'll believe the 'malicious people'."

Umbridge fixed him with a cold stare.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy." she said. "Your father has been such a generous benefactor to the Ministry. I had expected better of his son."

An hour later, they were all filing out of Umbridge's classroom. Hermione was in a roiling temper. After Draco's, Loch remark, she had ordered them to concentrate on the chapter and forbid any more questions. Hermione still wasn't any clearer on why the curriculum had been adapted for preschoolers. However, she seemed to be more sore about something else.

"_Mr. _Granger, honestly." she fumed.

"Don't pay her any mind." said Draco as he followed her down the stairs. "Her glasses are probably the wrong prescription."

"I do _not _look like a boy." she continued.

"Not in the slightest." agreed Draco.

"I have _breasts!_" she said.

Draco didn't have anything to say to this. She turned and looked at him questioningly.

"Don't I?" she asked.

She did, in fact. In fact, what had barely been a pair of bee stings last year were now the two leads in a zeppelin race. He was never going to say this out loud, of course.

"I don't see what you're worried about." Draco evaded. "Ron and Harry are 100% sure you're a girl."

He knew his tactic had worked when he saw Hermione blushing.

"I don't know what you mean." she said, hurrying up down the hall.

"Oh, yes you do." Draco jeered. "They didn't leave your side once while we were on the Silvana."

"It was a small ship." said Hermione.

"It was a huge ship." said Draco. "They stayed with you in the lounge while we were all having the spit-ball contest on deck. Ron would have beaten Fred, too."

"We're just friends." said Hermione.

"You are now." said Draco. "You do realize you'll have to pick one of them, eventually."

Draco stopped there, because Hermione's Superconductor Wand was pointed directly between his eyes. It was Titanium with a thin strip of Palladium spiraling down the side like a candy cane. He remembered that it had a core of pearl. He had once seen her use it to duel three Death Eaters into submission, simultaneously.

"Now listen hear," she said evenly, "what we need to focus on now is academics, not drama. We still have one more source of information we haven't tapped."

~o!o~

Professor Flitwick trotted down the hall to choir practice. He was trying to decide between a Minuto Alegra or an Alargando Morendo. He was so focused on the dilemma that he barely noticed the door to a supply closet on open suddenly. What he did notice, was when his body flew through the air and into the closet.

He felt himself land in a chair, but before he could react, the light switched on revealing three of his students.

"Ms. Granger?" he said, shocked. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, what's going on?"

"Alright, spill." said Hermione. "We've kidnapped you. You're under duress. It's not your fault if any confidential information slips."

"What are you on about?" said Flitwick. This wouldn't be the first time Hermione had lost it.

"What she means to say," cut in Draco, "is why have all the class levels been set to stupid?"

Professor Flitwick let out a deep sigh. "The Ministry believes that a revised, better structured approach-"

"Don't give us the party line." said Hermione. "You knew we were ahead of the course work they gave you. Why didn't you say anything? Why are you going along with it?"

"Look," said Flitwick angrily. He got off the chair and stood at his full height. In his case, the switch made him shorter. "None of us wanted to do this. It's as eye gougingly boring for us as it is for you. This kind of grunt work is an insult to our academic standing. However, our new Headmistress," he intoned headmistress as if she was a gastric disorder, "made it abundantly clear that if we didn't cooperate she would find someone who would."

His shoulders slumped as his indignation burnt out.

"If we deviate at all from the prescribed lesson plan, we'll be fired the same day. Normally, I would resign in protest. I can get a job anywhere. We teachers are quite good at magic. However, given what's going on in the world," he gestured vaguely outside, "I didn't want to leave my students here with whoever Umbridge considered a 'suitable replacement'."

~o!o~

The three of them walked into the library in defeat. They hadn't learned anything besides the people they looked up to were as confused and frustrated as they were. They found the table Harry and Marcus were sitting at in the Arithmancy section and joined them.

They recounted what Flitwick had told them.

"It's all starting to make sense." said Marcus, when Hermione was finished.

"It is?" asked Draco.

"Yes," said Marcus, pulling out his console. He pulled the edges gently and the tiny screen expanded to the size of a TV, but stayed just as thin. He poked the screen and an image of a wavy line showed up on a graph sheet. The bottom of the graph was marked with grades: Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, Acceptable, Poor, Dreadful, Troll. The Y axis was marked with numbers.

"This is called a bell curve." said Marcus, pointing at the wavy line.

"It looks more like a hill." said Ron.

"It doesn't matter." said Marcus. "This is what grades look like in every school in the world. A few students make top grades. A few students make poor grades. Most students fall in the middle. I don't know what Hogwarts' students grades were since the castle exploded and we've had to change buildings every year, but back before our first year, Hogwarts' students grades also looked like this. Some were good, some were bad, most were average. Now that Umbridge has dumbed down the school work," He tapped the screen and the hump over 'Acceptable' moved down to 'Outstanding'. "the grades are going to start looking like this."

"Everyone is going to be Outstanding students, no matter how dense they are. But only because the work is so simple." said Harry.

"None of the students are going to protest that they're doing well because the work is too easy." said Hermione. "No one on the outside will have any idea how simple the work is."

"So, Umbridge takes over after Dumbledore is ousted." said Ron.

"She institutes a whole new curriculum that a troll could pass." said Draco.

"And on paper it looks like she's a huge success." finished Marcus.

"It's all a ploy to make Dumbledore look bad." said Hermione, horrified. "And make the Ministry look like the saviors."


	33. Mischief

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 4: Mischief  
><strong>

_"Your brain's biggest fear is being bored."_

* * *

><p>Guild Locus, Bristol was a seven story office building designed to look as uninteresting as possible. The rest of the city considered it to be a typical office building, filled to the roof with accountants, actuaries, or whoever else got sentenced to life in a cubicle. People would wander into the lobby from time to time to ask if they were hiring. They would be told they didn't have any positions open at the moment, but would be given an application that the company would keep on file if a position ever opened up.<p>

As soon as the applicant was out the door, the application would be stored in the circular filling cabinet.

What the muggles didn't know, was that the building extended another fourteen stories underground. When Cynthia controlled the Guild, every single floor would be crawling with scientists, inventors, mechanics, technicians, and artisans. Each of them would be working on a project or part of a project, all of them working on the next great invention that would redirect the fate of wizarding kind. For the most part, the ideas never came to fruition. 99 out of every 100 ideas was an utter fiasco.

What kept the Guild going was the 100th idea was a real humdinger. Humphrey Belcher had spent more than a decade trying to perfect his infamous cheese cauldron and accidentally stumbled on to the high-speed racing broom.

These days, the building was vacated. The only people working there were Ministry auditors, gathering evidence against Cynthia. They were poking at prototypes and probing paperwork, trying to find something illicit.

On the very bottom floor, two Ministry auditors were making their way down the hall. The pockmarked, pudgy one kept turning to look behind his back.

"Stop looking so shifty." said his partner, a bucktoothed red head.

"I can't help it." he said. "If she catches us here, no one will find the bodies."

"She's in court for the next seven hours." said the other. "We're here."

He opened the next door they came do and they both stepped in. Pudgy switched on the light and they saw rows of filing cabinets.

"_Porto Bastus." _incanted the red head. The door slamed shut and there was a sizzling sound. Steam came out from around the frame.

"Made it with two seconds to spare." said the pudgy one as his face started to contort and his body deflated.

Their flesh crawled around their bodies and eventually settled into a new shape as their skeletons lengthened.

Thomas Potter stretched out his arms and cricked his neck. Polyjuice potion always left you feeling stiff. Sirius Black patted down his body, making sure he was himself again.

"What exactly are we looking for?" asked Sirius as Thomas walked down the first row and opened a few of the drawers.

"Any file pertaining to the Guild lab of Vostok." Thomas said as he pulled some of the files out and throwing them on a table that ran down the center of the isle.

Sirius pulled open a drawer marked with 'VOR-VOV 1989'.

"Vostok, that's the base in Antarctica?" Sirius asked.

"Yep." said Thomas. "If you want to keep a secret, hiding it in the most inhospitable place in the world is a good way to start."

Sirius opened several others drawers without finding so much as a 'VOS'.

"I guess it was hoping too much that it would be labeled 'Vostok- Secret Base- DAMNING EVIDENCE ENCLOSED'." said Sirius.

"Even a secret base needs toilet paper." said Thomas. "Food needs to be delivered, Janitors need to be payed, and someone has to bring the beer."

"Beer?" asked Sirius.

"You didn't think anyone was going to work down there sober?" said Thomas.

"Are you serious?"

"No." said Thomas. "You're Sirius. The point is, she has to order supplies for the base. What we need to find is a payroll with people who have dropped off the map or an order for 300 packages of Ramen that has mysteriously disappeared."

"So, what you're saying," said Sirius, "is we have to find what isn't there."

"Yep, keep looking." said Thomas.

Sirius opened another drawer and started leafing through files. The labels went passed his eyes without leaving the faintest trace on his brain. This was just the first row in a crowded room. It was like trying to find a needle in a massive stack of needles.

Three drawers later, he found something that looked promisingly mysterious. It was labeled 'Van der Waal, Raleigh – The Bloemfontein Incident'. He pulled it out and flipped it open to a picture of a young boy with tawny, red hair.

"I think I've got something." said Thomas, behind him. "It's a list of names."

Sirius came around to his side of the table and red over his shoulder. It was a list of names and addresses over a hundred sheets thick. The strange thing was the numbering. Instead of going up 1, 2, 3, 4 it went 1a, 1b, 2a, 2b, 3a, 3b, and so on. The people and places seem to be from all over planet Earth. Lochan and Maya Whitley of London were listed right above Kinomoto Sakura and Syo Ran Li of Hong Kong. The people didn't necessarily need to be in the same location either. 37a, Chad Cooper was in Los Angeles, California, while 37b Allison Munroe was in Appleton Wisconsin. Each pair was marked with one of three words: Philia, Storge, or Agape.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Sirius asked, pointing to the word 'Storge'.

"Not a thing." said Thomas. "But these names and address give us something to check out. What have you got there?"

Sirius looked at the file he still had in his hand. "Not sure. This looks like Cynthia's kid."

"Yeah," said Thomas, looking at the picture, "That's Raleigh."

The first few pages were just medical records, then they flipped to a newspaper article. The magically moving picture that ran alongside the article was...gruesome, to say the least. They read the first few lines.

"Oh, my God." they both said.

There was a grinding sound from the door, like ten million starving termites devouring a dining room set. They looked over to see Diego Montefiore standing in a perfectly round hole in the wall where the door used to be.

They were all quite for a second, then Diego saw the file Sirius was holding, with Raleigh's picture poking out of it. Diego's face morphed from passive to murderous rage.

~o!o~

Cynthia Montefiore sat before the Wizengamot. She was in her box, reserved for the defendant with several of her Lawyers. She was listening to one of the witnesses give her testimony. Ellie Watts was testifying that The Guild had sabotaged her plans to design the Improved British Floo Network, and used her blueprints to make the version the Ministry later paid them to do.

In reality, Watts version of the Floo Network looked like she had thrown seven balls of yarn and three cats into a tumble dryer. The Guild version was one of the most efficient in the world. Second only to Germany, in fact, and she had been consulted for that project.

Her console vibrated in her pocket. She reached up and pulled on her ear lobe and moved her hand to cover her mouth in what looked like a thoughtful gesture.

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"This is Diego. You were right about Thomas. He used the inquisition to sneak into the hall of records. He has Sirius Black with him."

So, Sirius was alive. She'd thought, hoped, he'd died in the explosion of Hogwarts Castle. He was one of the loose ends that might strangle her.

The event that actually vaporized Voldemort was a mystery to everyone but God, alone. However, everything else about his disappearance was so tidy. The Potter's go into hiding, they trust Black to keep them safe, Black gives their location to Voldemort, Voldemort goes to the Potter's house, Voldemort kills Lily and James, insert Miracle here, Voldemort dies, and Harry survives.

If people knew it was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed the Potters, they might wonder what else in the story they'd gotten wrong. She could not afford anyone to go digging. There were at least five other parts of the tidy version that were _dead_ wrong.

"Did they find anything?" she asked.

"It's hard to tell what they were looking for." said Diego. "They were searching through the V's."

Vostok. Thomas was still as sharp as a tack.

"I caught them in the act, but I didn't manage to capture them. They had a portkey, and got away." said Diego.

"I'm surprised they just ran away." said Cynthia. They had both been Gryffindors after all.

"They didn't run at first. They tried to duel me." said Diego.

"Are you alright?" said Cynthia, sitting up straighter. One of the barristers looked at her suspiciously.

"I'm fine." said Diego. "The hall of records will need to be refurbished. They'll both be looking for medical attention."

It was silly to worry about Diego. She had schooled him in combat herself, and he was a good student. Still, she had to answer to her maternal instinct.

"They were interested in only two files." said Diego. "The first is a list of names. It's not labeled."

Oh, dear.

"Destroy it." said Cynthia. "I have my own copy. What is the second file?"

He didn't answer immediately.

"Raleigh's file." he said finally.

Oh, dear.

"They know how he was born?" Cynthia asked.

"We must assume so." said Diego.

"Potter wouldn't use that kind of information against us." said Cynthia. "He hates me, and for good reason, but he isn't the kind of person who would attack his enemy's children." she paused, and then: "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." There was a hitch in his voice.

"Good work." she said, and hung up.

None of them liked being reminded about Bloemfontein, but there are some things that are dangerous to forget.

~o!o~

In Cynthia's penthouse, Raleigh was doing his algebra exercises on his console. Most people would say that Algebra is too complex for a ten year old, but no one had told him that.

He didn't hear Diego come in behind him. He finally turned around when he heard a sniff.

"Diego!" he said and ran over to hug his brother. When Diego hugged him back, it was tighter than normal, but Raleigh didn't mind. When he pulled back, Diego took his face in both hands. Raleigh saw that his brothers eyes were red.

"I love you, Raleigh." Diego said.

"I know," said Raleigh, smiling, "I love you, too."

Diego gave a wet smile, and kissed Raleigh's forehead. He always cursed what happened at Bloemfontein, but what happened had given him Raleigh. He wouldn't give up anything for Raleigh.

~o!o~

"_Mogadorian!" _shouted Harry.

A blue beam shot at Hermione who knocked it aside. She shot a body bind at him, but he managed to reflect it back at her.

Draco wasn't paying attention anymore and he looked out the window down at London. Their dueling practice had been as uninteresting as their classes. Dolores had issued an edict saying that she had to authorize students to meet in groups larger than three. A few of the school clubs had gotten her blessing to reform, but they doubted she'd give them license to spar in a glass building. As a result, they could only fight with spells that caused minimal damage and no noise so they wouldn't be discovered.

They had endured two and a half months of Umbridge's Hogwarts by now. Classes hadn't gotten any more interesting since day one.

"I never thought I'd be saying this," said Ron, slouching in one of the chairs, "but I miss having hard classes."

Everyone turned to look at him when he said this, including the two duelists. Harry took advantage of Hermione's surprise and her wand went flying across the room where he caught it.

"I'd do anything for a challenging transfiguration lesson." said Ron. "I miss the satisfaction of completing a challenge. And I was learning something useful. Now we're just reviewing things we already know."

"I know what you mean." said Draco. "I used to think I'd be happier with more leisure time, but I was happier when I was busy."

"Independent study just isn't cutting it." said Hermione. "We've all been pulling double shifts in the library, but we're making slow progress and the extra work is just making us tired." she said rubbing her eyes."

"We should all fail the courses in protest." said Draco. "Then Umbridge won't be able to tote her perfect students in front of the public."

"She'll just say that Cynthia is raising fools." said Marcus, typing something on his console. His fingers danced over the glowing tiles at unnatural speeds.

"We could convince other people to join us." suggested Draco.

"I think Fred and George would join us with out much convincing on our part." said Marcus. "But everyone else has careers to worry about. Employers choose their candidates based on the results of Ministry administered Examinations. And done!" he drew his hands back and the keyboard disappeared. "Five and half feet on Safely Transfiguring Sharp Objects."

"Why are you typing it on the console?" asked Ron. "You have to turn it in on parchment."

Marcus ignored him and unrolled a scroll on one of the desks. He shrunk the console to pocket size and set it down at the end of the scroll. Then he tapped something onto the screen.

Five and half feet of text appeared on the scroll, looking for all the world like he had written it out by hand in black ink. The letters were suspiciously uniform and the lines were evenly spaced, but no one would suspect how he really printed it.

"It can do that?" said Ron incredulously.

"Didn't you read the manual?" asked Marcus.

"There's a manual?" said Ron.

Draco turned back to the window and looked down at the streets as Marcus and Hermione started lecturing Ron on the importance of reading instructions. The sun was setting. This Hogwarts was so different from the others. Before, the school was isolated. Whether it was miles of forests or the wide ocean, there was nothing outside and so much you had to do within the school. Now, there was nothing to do in school and a whole city out there to explore. He had never ventured out into any muggle city on his own. Doing so would be dangerously irresponsible and recklessly shortsighted.

Then again, he was bored.

So it was resolved. He would sneak out of school when darkness fell and brave the city. He turned away from the window in time to see Hermione magically draw the letters 'RTFM' onto Ron's forehead.


	34. Path of Destruction

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 5: Path of Destruction  
><strong>

_"Follow the yellow brick road."_

* * *

><p>Draco scrolled down the list on names on his console. It was a short list. Just the Fifth House and the Montefiores. He found Harry's name and punched it. He pulled on his earlobe and he heard ringing. Eventually, Harry picked up his console.<p>

"It's three in the morning." he heard Harry's voice in the ear he just tugged.

"Guess where I am?" Draco asked, talking into his hand.

"You snuck out of № 30 St. Mary Axe and swam to France." said Harry, in a tone of voice typical of the living dead.

"Close. I snuck out and went to Vauxhall." said Draco, walking down the poorly lit street in one of the seedier areas. The streets were empty in the wee hours of the morning. He kept his eyes open for any policemen. It wouldn't help Cynthia if one of her children had to be excised from the muggle authorities. If he met a mugger or serial killer, they were fair game for his incendiary charms.

"What's in Vauxhall?" asked Harry, not sounding interested in the slightest. The first time Draco had called him from out of bounds Harry had had a conniption fit. He had been sneaking out for three weeks now, and the crippling panic had worn off.

"There's an all night rave going on. I snuck in through the air vent." said Draco.

"And no one noticed you were only fourteen?" asked Harry.

"It was badly lit and everyone was on something." said Draco.

"_You _didn't take anything, did you?" asked Harry, now alert.

"Of course I didn't." said Draco, turning down the next alley. "I'm not an idiot."

"I can't be sure." said Harry. "You're sneaking out of school under the nose of a Ministry peon while our mom is facing criminal charges."

"Cynthia will be fine." said Draco, squeezing between two dumpsters as he made his way to a side street. "They won't tack on more charges just because her son is a half-wit."

"You _can _call her mom, you know." said Harry. "She loves you."

"I know." said Draco, his voice becoming serious. "I love her, too. And Raleigh, and Diego, and you, and Marcus. But, what happens when I have to back to live with my other mother?"

"She can still be your mom." said Harry. "Lot's of people have two moms." he paused. "I think it's legal in the Netherlands."

"Some people in Salt Lake City have six moms." said Draco. "Ah, damn." he was faced with a dead end. He must have taken a wrong turn on the way back to № 30 St. Mary Axe.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"I hit a dead end." said Draco. He pulled out his console to check the map. "I think I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

He turned around and started walking toward the mouth of the alley. There was a crashing sound behind him. Bricks and chunks of mortar were flung down the alley. A few small bits of brick hit the Draco in the back. A few larger bits hit him, too.

As a Gryffindor, he was not of a very inquisitive nature, and was quite happy to run away without looking back to see what he was running from. He ran down the pavement like the Devil was at his heels. He heard a pounding behind him, and the sound of crumbling stone. He wondered wildly if he was being pursued by an elephant, but he didn't want to loose what might be a life saving second by turning around to look.

He saw another brick wall dead ahead. He prayed to the God of Heaven that it wasn't another dead end. It wasn't. The alley made a ninety degree turn. He turned sharply at the corner. He heard the sound of another wall being smashed in. This time, he did look around. Whatever it was hadn't bothered to make the corner and just kept on going through the building.

Draco saw a fire escape and thought it might be to his advantage to get out of the monsters reach. He jumped up to the first balcony rather than pull the ladder down. Most people couldn't make an eighteen foot jump wandless, but Cynthia had taught him how when the family went to the Hopscotch World Championships in Peru, where they drew the squares on different mountaintops. Diego had brought home the Bronze medal.

He climbed the rest of the way up to the roof. He could hear the sounds of the monsters rampage screaming in his ear. When he got to the roof he realized it was actual screaming in his ear.

"Draco! What's happening?" yelled Harry in his ear. He had never hung up.

"The dead end tried to kill me." said Draco breathlessly.

"Eh?" asked Harry.

"Something broke through the wall and nearly ran me over." said Draco, walking over to the edge of the roof and looking down to the street. "It's carving a path through all the buildings. It's charging through them like they're rice paper."

"What does it look like?" asked Harry. "Take a video of it."

Draco pulled out his console and turned on the camera. He trained it to where the entity was causing chaos in a warehouse. He couldn't make out anything but a flailing outline and glowing red eyes.

He heard shouting down from the other end of the alley and he looked down to see people running out of the hole that used to be the dead end Draco had first run into. They followed the thing's trail until they reached it.

Draco expected a duel to start with curses flying, but as suddenly as the fiasco had started, the thing just stopped moving. He watched in awe as one of the men led it out of the warehouse it had vandalized and led it back to where the rampage had started. The other men started waving their wands and the streets and buildings repaired themselves. It looked like he was watching the ordeal in reverse, the thing walking back to the beginning and all the damage undoing itself.

Eventually, the thing stepped into half decent lighting. It was stone. Solid rock, that was carved into a roughly humanoid shape. It was walking on it's legs and knuckles like a gorilla. The scale of the thing was huge. It must have been fifteen feet high, and it was leaning forward. Draco hoped it couldn't climb this building. It had a head, but no face. Just two glowing red eyes.

It went back into the building it had first busted through. The wizards repaired the wall and it looked as if nothing had happened.

~o!o~

"I have no idea what it is." said Hermione. It was the next day and they were all gathered in an empty room in № 30 St. Mary Axe watching the video Draco had recorded.

"It might be a troll." said Ron.

"It might be a Demiguise." said Harry. "They're basically giant gorillas."

"Demiguise are gentle and shy." said Draco. "And not made of rock."

"You're sure you were here?" asked Hermione. She was pointing at a map she had on her console screen.

"Yep." said Draco. "the layout matches the street we're seeing in the video, and I wrote down the name of the first intersection I came to after I got off the roof."

"There's nothing about what happened in the Daily Prophet." said Harry. "Whoever did this wanted to avoid _everyone's _notice. So, making giant stone gorillas is probably illegal."

"Yeah," agreed Ron, "expressly forbidden in section 19 or something of the Restriction of Thingy."

"Now it gets weird." said Hermione, consulting her map. "According to the City of London business register, that building it busted out of is owned by a company called 'Salazar Commodities Limited'."

"Salazar?" asked Ron. "Like Salazar Slytherin?"

"It's owned by a parent company called 'The Centaur Conglomerate'." said Hermione her fingers pulling up new windows on her console. "it owns several other companies, all of them have something in the company letterhead that's related to wizards or magic."

"These companies," said Marcus, "could they be Muggle Fronts?"

"It makes sense with some of them." said Hermione. "They mostly deal in goods: building materials, produce, grains, lumber, textiles; all things wizards need but don't want to make themselves. Some of them don't make sense at all. This one runs a community center, and a few of these are employment agencies. Salazar Ltd. doesn't seem to do anything, it's listed as a brokerage."

"A what?" asked Ron.

"A brokerage sells things before they exist." said Marcus. "Their commodities exist _in potentia._"

"I don't understand." said Ron.

"Neither do I, in point of fact." said Marcus. "I just know that some people turn them into a real money spinner."

"Is this one of those things we should tell an adult about?" asked Harry. "I mean, they're clearly up to no good, and that...wossname could have hurt somebody."

They thought about this for a second.

"We probably should." said Hermione. "Who would we tell, though?"

"I'm not telling Umbridge." said Draco. "The day I admit to her I snuck out is the same day I drink three gallons of molten lead."

"You could tell McGonagall." suggested Marcus.

"She'd be legally obligated to tell Umbridge." said Hermione.

"You could tell Kingsley or Tonks." said Harry. "They could investigate it and make an arrest."

"I could," said Draco, "but aren't they busy with Order work?"

"That's true." said Harry. "They're doing Order work _and _Ministry investigations. Crimes are on the rise with the pureblood supremacists getting more brazen."

"Dumbledore?" suggested Ron.

"He's being indited," said Draco, "and running the Order."

"Mom?" suggested Harry.

"Also being indited." said Marcus. "and running the companies in the Guild that the Ministry doesn't know about."

"Mundungus?" said Ron.

"He's an absolute tit." said Hermione. "Even if he is a Ravenclaw."

"Well, who does that leave?" asked Harry.

"No one." said Draco. He paused and then: "We could do it."

"Do what?" asked Hermione, raising her eyebrow with a panache that would impress Snape.

"Investigate the watsit." said Draco, indicating the rampaging stone gorilla playing on the console.

"Draco." said Hermione, standing up. "I don't care how bored we all are. We are not going to run around London trying to find a giant monster."

~o!o~

The next Monday, Draco was coming out of the Charms classroom. It was as uninteresting as ever. Professor Flitwick was a good teacher, but he was having a hard time making the Repairing Charm seem interesting the third week in a row. He walked over to the window and looked down at London. He could see the Thames. Ferries were making their way across from the Tower Millennium Pier.

The best thing about № 30 St. Mary Axe was you could always see out the window. There wasn't a single inch of the outer wall that wasn't a window. You could see the city around you as easily as if you were hovering in midair. Before he had begun sneaking out, Draco had felt like he was in a bird cage kingdom.

"Draco!" Hermione called.

Draco turned to see his friend running toward him. She got very close to him.

"I know how we can find the giant monster!" she said in an excited whisper.

"what" asked Draco, also whispering. "you told me we werent to invethtigate under any thircumthtantheth"

Cynthia had been through Special Ops training in her wild, youthful days. One part of her training, that she passed on to her children, was how to whisper so quietly that you didn't use any capital letters or punctuation. The drawback was you couldn't use the letter 's'. The 's' sound can carry a long way in even the smallest of whispers. 'S' was the drag queen of consonants.

"Yeah, I know what I said, but I'm so bored." said Hermione. "I did an Internet search on the companies owned by the Centaur Conglomerate. The Internet is an international network of-"

"i know what the internet ith" said Draco. "thinthia taught me"

"Oh." said Hermione, embarrassed.

"i write fanfiction thometimeth" said Draco.

"Really?" said Hermione. "You aren't angelofdarknessfire , are you?"

"no" said Draco. "theeth good though"

"Yeah," said Hermione. "I like the one where – Never mind! The point is I did a search on the companies that didn't make sense as Muggle Fronts. One of the employment agencies, Horntail Placement, was just sued by a woman named Madea Rakotswe. The lawsuit was a matter of public record, and I have her address."

"what wath the lawthuit about" asked Draco.

"Her husband disappeared." said Hermione. "She lives in the city and we can go ask her what happened and that might give us a clue about what those companies are doing."

There was a trumpeting sound. They both spun around to see a furious Professor Umbridge taking long strides down the hall. Long for her, anyway. She had a very impressive elephant trunk where her noes used to be. She fumed past them.

"Hwhen hI fHind thHose TwHins." she muttered, her trunk accentuating her vowels.

"It looks like Fred and George are pushing new borders in pranking." said Hermione.

"We all deal with boredom differently." said Draco. "They torment the Headmistress and we investigate The Stone Ape of Vauxhall."

"So, we're going?" asked Hermione, looking hopeful.

"Yep." said Draco, as they both set off for the Great Floor. "We'll just tell the rest of the Fifth House what we're doing and we can go to her house this Friday when the twins are planning to put a swamp in Umbridge's office."

"A swamp?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, she should be distracted until next Wednesday." said Draco. "We have to do one thing before I take you out of № 30 St. Mary Axe."

"What?" said Hermione.

"You have to learn to whisper." said Draco. "I'm not taking you out if you can't be stealthy."

"Shut up." said Hermione.

"Maybe you'd prefer if Harry taught you." said Draco, grinning. "You two could cozy up in the library. He can whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Then when he leans in-"

That's when Hermione punched him.


	35. Inquiries

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 6: Inquiries**

_"When you look into a mystery, the mystery looks back."_

* * *

><p>Friday came at a glacial pace, as Friday's always will. When lunch time came, instead of going to the Great Floor, Draco and Hermione snuck out of № 30 St. Mary Axe. The building hadn't come equipped with any secret tunnels, so Draco had to instal one when he first decided to begin sneaking out. Once they were out they made their way to Dowanhill Road, the home of Madea Rakotswe.<p>

"This is a house?" asked Draco as Hermione knocked on the door.

"Don't be mean, Draco." said Hermione. "It's a perfectly nice house."

He looked over the crumbling concrete box. The window had been knocked out in a time before remembered history and was covered with a sheet of plywood. It was the only building he'd ever seen that didn't automatically imply the existence of an architect.

"It probably doesn't even keep the rain out." said Draco.

"Some people don't have rich parents." said Hermione curtly. "Times are hard, you know."

The door cracked open. Draco could see a dark woman inside. She just barely peaked around the door.

"Yes?" she asked. She had an accent he couldn't recognize. It had a deep, flowing cadence.

"Hello." said Hermione, smiling disarmingly. Draco saw her slip her wand out of her sleeve and give it a small swivel. "We're court reporters. We're doing a follow up on the legislation you brought against the Horntail Employment Agency."

Her eyes seem to glaze over.

"Oh, yes." she said. "Please, come in."

She lead them inside. The house was even smaller inside. The furniture was sparse and old, but had been repaired very carefully. The tears in the couch upholstery looked like they had been sewn by hand. Everything was orderly and spotlessly clean. In spite of how little they had, they still took pride in their home.

She offered them a seat on the sofa and sat down across from them on a wicker chair.

Draco cast around for something nice to say about the house, to break the ice. His eyes landed on a picture hanging on the wall beside him.

"Is this your husband?" he asked. Madea was in a bed being fawned over by a tall gangly man.

"Yes," said Madea, "that's my David. And that," she pointed at the bundle they were both holding, "is our daughter, June."

"How old is she?" asked Hermione, peering at the picture.

"She was just born in that picture." said Madea. "She's a year old now." Madea handed them a different picture. The girl in it had a small fro and was wearing a green sundress.

"She's lovely." said Hermione.

"Can you tell us," said Draco, who had had enough small talk, "why you were suing Horntail Employment?"

"It all started when June was born." said Madea. "We had just been naturalized. We came here from Somalia two years ago. The day after she was born, David lost his job. We couldn't pay anything. We thought it was a blessing when the agency said they had something for him."

"What company did they place him with?" asked Hermione, pulling out her console. She had mastered the skill of typing with her thumbs and didn't need to activate the keyboard.

"They never told us." said Madea. "They just said it required him to leave home, live on site, and would pay ₤2,000.00 per month."

"That's a lot." said Hermione, in answer to Draco's unasked question. He still hadn't worked out Galleon-Pound conversion.

"Yes, we weren't about to ask questions." said Madea. "At first, things were fine. He was gone for eight months. The money came as promised, and he wrote to us."

"Do you have one of the letters?" said Hermione.

"Yes, I keep them in my room." said Madea, getting up. She brought back a sheaf of white paper, and handed it to Hermione. Draco looked at it over her shoulder. It was typed out, including the signature.

"Then I got word that his brother in Somalia had died." said Madea. "I tried to contact him so we could go to the remembrance service, but I got no response. I tried to go see him myself, but they did not tell me where he was."

"So, you sued them for his location." finished Hermione.

"Yes," said Madea; her voice was quieter now. "But they didn't...they said..."

"There was insufficient evidence to prove bad faith and break a nondisclosure agreement." said Hermione.

Draco nodded, feigning understanding. He knew what the words meant, it was the sentence he was having trouble with.

"Yes!" said Madea, who finally broke down into tears.

Hermione got up and went over to her. She put her arms around Madea's shoulders in the comforting gesture. Draco, feeling awkward, went to the kitchen to see if he could make some tea. Tea made everything better.

~o!o~

After Hermione and Draco had calmed Mrs. Rakotswe down with a few cheering charms, they left her house. They had missed lunch and dinner, so Draco took her to a greasy spoon he had found on his midnight excursions.

"I don't understand how a man can just leave everything for a mystery job in an unknown location." said Draco, in between bites of chicken pot pie.

"It was ₤2,000.00 per month." said Hermione from the other side of the booth. "They had just had a baby."

"Someone else must have been hiring." said Draco. "Under less suspicious circumstances."

"Nobodies hiring." said Hermione. "Britain is having a recession."

"It is?" asked Draco. "Why?"

"Because the planet it's sitting on is having a world wide recession." answered Hermione. "A few months ago all the stock markets started going into a death spiral. Billions of people went broke overnight."

"How did that happen?" asked Draco, who was genuinely startled that things could go that badly wrong. Money didn't just disappear. _Someone _had to have it.

"It's very simple." said Hermione, stirring the dressing into her salad. "You take a few greedy bastards and give them unprecedented control of the legislative system."

"Can the muggles fix it?" asked Draco.

"Yeah, that's very simple." said Hermione. "You take the greedy bastards and ring the money back out of them. Unfortunately, that's illegal, so we have to do this the hard way. The forest has to grow back after the fire."

"That sounds like it would take a long time." said Draco.

"A very long time." said Hermione. "And we're going to be feeling the pinch every minute."

Draco felt his console vibrate in his pocket. He pulled on his ear lobe and reached over to pull on Hermione's.

"Hello, lovebirds." said Marcus. "How's your first date going?"

"We just bought six pounds of chocolate mousse and we're looking for a motel room." said Hermione. She said this with a straight face. Marcus was rubbing off on her. "What did you find out?"

"We've been scouring the library for any mention of giant stone gorillas." said Marcus.

"Have you found anything?" asked Draco.

"A lot, surprisingly." said Marcus. "We need more information before we narrow it down. Was the missing man an astronaut?"

"He was a welder." said Hermione.

"We can rule out moon rocks, then." said Marcus. There was a sound like something being crossed off a list.

"We're coming back to № 30 St. Mary Axe." said Draco. "How much trouble are we in from Umbridge?"

"None, actually." said Marcus. "She's been preoccupied all afternoon. If you can get in the next half an hour she should still be rounding up the snails."

"Snails?" asked Draco.

"Fred and George." said Marcus. "They'll fill you in when you get back."

"Good. We'll hurry up and get back." said Hermione, pulling out money for the check.

"Oh, and Hermione?" said Marcus.

"Yes?" she asked.

"How do you want me to break it to Harry and Ron?" Marcus asked.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"That you left them to run away with Draco." said Marcus.

That's when Hermione punched him.

"Ow!" he cried. "How did you _do_ that? I'm ten blocks away!"

~o!o~

That night, the Fifth House met up in an empty classroom. Draco stood looking out the window that was an entire wall of the room. The streets and cars of the street below lit up the city like a psychedelic spider web. Harry was the last person to come in.

"_Colloportus._" he said. The door closed behind him with a squelching sound. "Sorry I'm late. I had to dodge the Emmas."

There were three caretakers employed at Hogwarts: Emma, Emma, and Emma.

Marcus pulled his console open to it's larger size. It was displaying a list of spells.

"This is what we could find that would make a stone gorilla." he said. "All of them unlikely and many of them highly illegal."

"Why would anyone want a stone gorilla?" asked Harry.

"I really don't know." said Marcus. "Gorillas don't have many practical applications. You can't even teach them to fetch."

"I did another Internet search on Horntail Employment." said Ron, enlarging his console screen. "There's no other records of litigation, but there are tax records. The agency gets a tax exemption if it places more than 150 people per month. They have to hand in a record of people they've placed. That record usually kept confidential."

"So, how do we get it?" asked Harry.

"I had to hack into the muggle ministry database." said Ron. "You can do that. It's in the manual."

"Does the console have a button that releases evil robots?" asked Draco.

"Yeah," said Ron, "but you have to buy the robots separately. Anyway, the list is over 300 people long. I've been calling the people on the list and most of them have jobs in or around London that Horntail placed them with. So far, no one is mysteriously absent and sending back money and typed messages."

"They probably wouldn't hand in records of anything nefarious." said Marcus. "The Exchequer double checks everything. Twice. The Horntail agency is putting up a very convincing front."

"But why would they want to disappear people?" asked Harry. "And wouldn't it be easier to just abduct people off the street?"

"Maybe they're looking for a special sort of person." suggested Hermione. "When you apply at a placement agency you have to give them all sorts of personal information. They could be picking people with the right combination of traits."

"Again, for what?" asked Harry.

"There are some spells that require people." said Marcus. The whole room got chilly.

"What do you mean?" asked Draco. He had no idea why he asked. He was terrified of the answer.

"Well, for example:" said Marcus. "There's an item called the Philosopher's Stone. It can turn any metal to gold and grant eternal life."

"Where can I get one?" asked Ron.

"You can make one." said Marcus. "You just need forty-eight kilos of pure gold, seventy-eight kilos of diamond, twenty-three kilos of sulfur, nine kilos of phosphorus, 120 kilos of iron, and 70,000 human sacrifices."

Their jaws hit the floor. Draco couldn't remember ever having seen 70,000 people at the same time. He couldn't even imagine what that many people even looked like.

"That would make a seventeen gram Philosopher's Stone." finished Marcus.

"What?" asked Hermione. She was appalled that such a thing even existed, and how it was made. In order to cope with the shock her brain focused on the math portion of the problem. "How do you fit 120 kilos of iron into a 17 gram stone?"

"Magic." said Marcus. "And Quantum mechanics."

"Is there anything else?" asked Draco. He was hopeful that the conversation would take a more cheerful turn.

"Well, you can use dead bodies to make an army of Inferi." said Ron. "That's a dead body that's enchanted to move."

Hermione started looking a little green. She went to lean her head against the cool glass of the window, taking deep steadying breaths.

"There's no shortage of dead bodies, though." said Marcus, as Harry went over to rub Hermione's back. "You don't need to snatch living people. You could open a Muggle Front funeral home and enchant the caskets to look like someone's in them."

"Please stop." said Hermione, sounding strained.

"Sorry." said Marcus.

"We don't have enough information." said Draco, looking over the list that Marcus had tabulated. "There's only one place to find the answers we need."

"You're not saying-" said Hermione.

"The Place that actually _has _the stone gorilla we're investigating." said Draco. "We need to break into Salazar Commodities Ltd."


	36. Break In

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 7: Break In**

_"The most important factor in planning a break in is making sure you have someone to arrange your bail."_

* * *

><p>It was mid-December before they got their chance to sneak out again. The two weeks of exam preparation provided enough chaos so they would go unnoticed. Everyone knew exams were not going to be hard, so they spent the preparation time causing mischief instead of studying. Headmistress Umbridge had her pudgy hands full trying to keep a lid on the fireworks that kept going off in the bathrooms and dodging all the Fanged Frisbees that were flying down the hall. Fred and George had made it their personal mission to harass the Headmistress and had just covered the floor of her office with long spikes. Anyone trying to walk into it would never walk again.<p>

The Fifth House was walking down a side alley near the Salazar Commodities building. They were all huddled in their coats and staying close to the wall to shield themselves from the wind.

"Okay," said Harry, stopping, "according to the map. This is where we get in."

Draco looked around, but there were no doors anywhere in the narrow alley. Harry was looking down. Draco followed his gaze and saw a man hole.

"The sewer?" he asked.

"It's the only unsecured entrance I could find on the blue prints." said Harry.

"Is it..." asked Hermione, "a working sewer?"

"I hope so." said Harry. "I'd hate to go down there if it wasn't working."

"Hey!" slurred a voice from down the street. They all turned to see seventeen or so men at the entrance to the alley. The one who called them seemed to have more tattoos than skin. "What ya doin' in a place like this?"

"Passing through." said Harry, shifting to stand in front of Hermione.

"Werll, this is a private alley." said Tattoo. He and his entourage were closing in on them. "Since you passed through, you have to pay rent."

"Toll." said Marcus.

"Huh?" he said, stopping in mid-stride.

"You pay a toll to pass." said Marcus. "You pay rent for lodgings."

Tattoo's jovial expression morphed into a scowl.

"It's ok." said Hermione, pushing Ron aside. "I've got the toll right here."

She pulled out her wand and jabbed it at them. There was a sound like a electric guitar with the volume of a cannon. The gang was lifted off the ground and blown back straight out of the alley. Draco watched them scramble to their feet and run away down the main road. Tattoo didn't even manage to get back up.

"Impressive nonverbal magic." said Marcus.

"Getting Cynthia's hairdo has made you fearless." said Harry, grinning appreciatively. "The sewer should be no problem after that." he stomped on the ground and the man hole cover flew up into the air and hovered ten feet above the ground. "Gryffindors first."

"Why me?" asked Draco, indignant.

"Because Gryffindors are all brave and chivalrous and I don't want to go first." said Harry.

"I didn't dress for this." said Draco, weakly.

"We spent a month on sanitation charms." Harry countered.

"It smells like excrement!" said Draco.

Harry pointed his wand at him. "_Ebublio!_" A bubble formed around Draco's head like a helmet. He took a deep breath and could no longer smell the scent wafting out to the man hole.

Realizing he hand no more valid objections, he gritted his teeth and jumped down into the hole. He heard a splash and felt water, or what he hoped was water, come up passed his ankles.

"_Lumos_." he incanted. His wand lit up and illuminated the tunnel. The walls were solid smooth rock. It was barely high enough to accommodate him. He was going to have to bend down. Ron was going to have to walk through on his knees. He tried very hard not to look at the 'water' at the bottom of the sewer.

He heard a splash behind him and turned around to see who had followed him. There was no one there.

"Ok." he called up. "No alligators. Come on down."

Once they were all down, Harry consulted the map on his console.

"We just need to go this way," he pointed down the tunnel, "about twenty meters. Then we go straight up into the building."

They closed the man hole, then started walking. Draco couldn't tell with any certainty how far twenty meters was. Harry seemed to be making marks on the wall every few steps.

"Stop." said Marcus from the back of the line. They all stopped. Draco turned around to see what was wrong.

Marcus stood stock still for a moment, then he swung his arm back. He hit nothing, and nothing fell back into the sludge making a splash. He grabbed forward and pulled back a hand full of fabric that appeared from thin air. He pulled more and it turned out to be an invisibility cloak that was covering Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny!" cried Draco and Ron. "What are you doing here?" asked Draco as he dashed past Marcus to help her up.

"I wanted to sneak out with you." said Ginny as Draco cleaned her off with his wand.

"I'm sorry I struck you." said Marcus, putting the bubble head charm on her. "I didn't recognize you with this on." he held up the invisibility cloak. "I wouldn't have loaned it to you if I knew you wanted to follow us."

"Draco would never take me out with him." complained Ginny. "It sounded fun when he talked about exploring London after dark." she looked around the sewer. "It looks like he oversold it."

"I didn't take you because it's dangerous out here." said Draco, taking her gently by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "I'm trained to fight. You are not. You saw that gang up there."

"I could have taken them." she said.

"And we're not here to go to a rave." said Hermione. "We're investigating a rampaging monster. Go back to № 30 St. Mary Axe."

"She can't." said Draco. "She doesn't know the spell to open the passage, and I don't want her walking back alone." he looked directly into Ginny's eyes. "Keep the cloak on, and stay close to me."

"Ok." she said.

He made Ginny walk in front of him. As they all started walking again, he could have sworn he saw Marcus wink at him.

It was a few more paces before Harry stopped them.

"It's straight up here." said Harry. "We'll come in through the bathroom."

"Boys or Girls?" asked Ginny and Hermione at the same time.

"What's the difference?" asked Harry.

"All the difference." said Ginny. "We piss _in _the loo for one thing."

A short while later, Draco was emerging through a hole in floor. It was dark as pitch inside the building. He pointed the light around the bathroom to see a few sinks and a bank of toilet stalls.

"It's empty." he said, pulling himself the rest of the way out. Harry and Marcus jumped straight out using their Hopscotch skills. The three of them helped pull Ron and the girls out.

"_Homenum Revelio._" said Hermione. There was a series of soft pings. "there are thix people in the building bethideth uth" she whispered. "theyre all together on the other thide of the floor"

"right" said Draco. "wandth off and monoclth in" he pulled out the monocle Cynthia had given him when they first left home to go to the Silvana. He reached back and took Ginny's hand.

"dont worry" he said. "ill keep you thafe"

"How," she whispered tersely, "are you whispering like that?"

"thereth a trick to it" he responded "ill thow you latter" then he added. "you thould probably jutht not talk"

They proceeded out the bathroom door to an equally dark hallway. There were doors here and there that they split up and tried opening. Ron poked his head out of the office he just went into and waived them over.

"what ith it" asked Hermione.

"ith thith muggle money" he asked pointing inside the room. Draco squinted at the desk Ron was pointing to, but the monocle only showed shapes. It couldn't tell you the difference between a bill and a coupon. In the end, they all piled into the office and switched on the light.

Yes, it was muggle money. The desk was covered in it. Stacks of it. Stacks too big to carry. It wasn't just the desk. Money was stacked up on every available surface. The shelves were full of it. There were neat piles on the floor as tall as Hermione. In the darkness, Draco had just thought they were furniture.

"Bloody Hell." said Harry, forgetting to whisper.

Marcus poked around for anything that might be useful.

"thith ith definitely a muggle front" he said. "only withardth would be thith careleth with ₤8,000,000"

"ith that a lot" asked Ron, who didn't know a shilling from a shepard.

"itth about one and a half million galleonth" answered Marcus, as Ron's eyes bugged out of his head. "therth a ledger back here"

They all followed him around to the other side of the desk. There was book sitting open on the blotter. It was full of blank lined paper that someone had been writing on.

"lookth like nameth and dateth" said Marcus. He closed the book and put his console on the cover. He poked the screen a few times an the word 'COPYING' flashed on the screen. The ledger gave off a faint blue glow, then it stopped. The screen of the console flashed 'SOURCE COPIED'.

They all leaped when they heard a moaning sound. Draco grabbed Ginny's hand while Hermione ran over and switched off the lights. They waited a few seconds, then they heard it again. Hermione opened the door and they followed her down the hallway. They passed a few more rooms, the moaning sound was getting closer.

They finally came to a door that was hanging open. Dim light was coming out of it. Hermione pulled out her pocket mirror and used it to check around the corner.

"empty" she said. They all went in. Draco saw that the source of light was a window with the blinds drawn. He walked up to it and peered through one of the small gaps in the blinds. He instantly wished he hadn't.

"Oh, God." he said, forgetting to whisper.

He heard a rustling sound as the others walked up to the window to peak through whatever gap they could find. They were careful not to jostle the blinds so whatever was on the other side didn't get a clue that they had company.

The window looked over some kind of operating theater. Instead of a surgeon's table there were five people standing around a giant circle drawn onto the floor. The circle had a bunch of strange symbols and meridian lines drawn in it with lots of crisscrossing shapes. The writing was tiny and detailed. The ink they used was a familiar shade of red that Draco was willing to bet was really blood.

The moaning was coming from inside the circle. There was a man halfway between the perimeter and the center. He looked feverish and was rocking back and forth. He had a tired look on his face. He didn't seem to know where he was. Every so often, he would moan softly.

Standing directly in the center of the circle was what looked like a suit of armor, except the dimensions were all wrong for a person and it was far too tall. It looked like it was solid steel. Blades were welded on to every available extremity: hands, elbows, heels; it was a walking wood chipper. The helmet had spikes like horns. There was no face.

The wizards were chanting now. Symbols in the blood circle began to glow. Draco could swear he even saw some of them move. The wizards chanted louder and faster. The man in the circle fell over backwards. He was limp on the ground. Draco saw something rise out of his mouth. It was a small, glowing, blue dot. Draco had no idea what it was. He wondered if that was the man's life leaving his body.

The blue dot floated in the air and slowly made it's way to the spiked armor in the center of the circle. Eventually, it made contact with the armor and disappeared. The wizards stopped chanting and the whole building was silent. The kids, Draco included, all held their breath.

Then two glowing red eyes appeared on the faceless head. The armor took a step forward and raised it's hands. It waved them around and rocked on it's feet, like someone stretching after they get out of bed.

Marcus finally broke the silence. "I know what it is."

~o!o~

Marcus flipped open the book on the Fifth House's table on the Great Floor the next day at lunch. The page he opened to had an illustration of a statue with bright red eyes.

"It's a Golem." he said. "A statue with a human soul. The first Golem was made by the Rabbi Loew in Prague circa 1540. He built it to kill his rival and it worked perfectly. They've been illegal to create since 1780."

"Wicked." said Ron, looking over the page. "I could turn myself into a giant suit of armor?"

"You could if you had nothing else to live for." said Marcus. "You wouldn't take your magic with you. That stays in your body, and you can never change back."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"Because the spell that transfers the soul is imperfect." said Marcus. "It's like peeling the price tag off a box. It always rips and leaves some of itself behind. If you transfer yourself to a Golem, you wouldn't be you anymore. You'd be grotesque parody of you. There's no magic that can heal a soul."

"They've been doing this to helpless muggles." said Hermione with condemnation. "That's disgusting. Why couldn't they just enchant a statue to walk around?"

"A Golem retains a thinking mind. It can do more complex tasks than a locomotive statue." said Marcus. "The spell that seals the soul into the statue makes them totally obedient. They feel neither pain nor hunger and never tire. They can last as long as the materials they are made off."

"They're made of things besides rock?" asked Harry.

"They can be anything." said Marcus. "Ceramic. Stone. Metal. Plastic. Glass. Sugar. That's really all the book says about them. Someone scrawled a note in the corner that a Golem can't function as a Horcrux. Whatever that means."

"That Golem we saw was entirely made of blades." said Ron. "The one Draco saw was knocking down brick walls like spider webs."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but his gaze shifted to the book and his eyes widened in terror.

Draco followed his gaze and saw that the book was slowly rising off the table. He wondered for a terrifying moment if the book knew they were on to it and was going to silence them, then he noticed his plate was floating, too.

Then he noticed _he _was floating. The rest of the Fifth house was also starting to rise weightlessly into the air. Hermione grabed onto the table's edge to anchor herself, but it started to follow her up.

Draco looked around the hall and saw that everyone else was in exactly the same position. All the students, their tables, and whatever they had with them at the time, was floating through the air. Luna Lovegood was doing breast strokes across the room.

"I get the feeling," said Draco, grinning, "that Fred and George have made progress with their Anti-Gravity charm."

"I'd be very impressed if I wasn't caught in the middle of it." said Hermione, swimming through the air to get her book bag, which was now orbiting Terry Boot.

"I'm still very impressed." said Ron as he heard Umbridge swearing.

"So, these wizards." said Ron, getting back on topic. "It looks like they're creating Golems that can fight. And we don't know how many they made. They could have a Golem Army."

"This may be the case." said Marcus, pulling out his console. "The ledger I copied had a list of names corresponding with times, dates, addresses, and a hexadecimal number that doesn't mean anything to me, probably code for something."

He enlarged the screen of the console and showed them an exact replica of the page they had seen last night; identical right down to the coffee stains. He tapped the screen and the pages flipped back. The console had managed to copy every single page of the ledger in one go. It was Draco's single favorite feature about the console. He never had to submit himself to Madame Pince's judgemental gaze when he wanted to check out a library book. He just found the book he needed, had the console copy it, and two seconds later the book was back on the shelf and he was gone with his own copy.

"Number 221 on the list is dated February 8th and the name is David Rakotswe." said Marcus, pointing at one of the names written in the ledger before shrinking his console back down and pocketing it.

"David Rakotswe left home for the job Horntail offered him on February 7th." said Draco, recalling the visit to Mrs. Rakotswe's house.

"Presumably, they turned him into a Golem on the eighth." said Marcus. "I have a feeling that we'll find more leads if we track down the families of the other people in the ledger."

"I don't know." said Hermione, swimming back to them. "We have an a lot of evidence now. We could just turn it over to the authorities. People are being killed. Kind of. They deserve justice and so do their families. We've been doing this because we're bored, but this isn't a game anymore."

"How about we sit down Dumbledore, Mother, Kingsley, and Tonks over Christmas break and tell them all we know." said Marcus. "Until then, we can gather more evidence."

Hermione thought about it for a while. "Al right, deal." she said. "Dumbledore and Cynthia make the last court appearance for the year on the twentieth. They have a lot to deal with until then, anyway."

"Poor Dumbledore." said Ron as a copy of the Daily Prophet floated past him. "This week they've been parading dozens of his former female students through the courtroom. They all claim he groped them."

"Well, we know they're lying." said Marcus.

"Allegations of sexual misconduct should always be taken seriously." chided Hermione. "No matter who the accused is."

"Still, _they _are _definitely_ lying." insisted Marcus.

"How do you know?" asked Draco.

Marcus worked his jaw around like he was trying to mold his next sentence into the right shape.

"Dumbledore," he started slowly, "doesn't...like..."he gestured vaguely, "batting on our...side."

"Eh?" said Ron. Draco was confused too. Hermione, however, had started blushing.

"He...likes his...candle...snuffed out...differently." Marcus tried lamely. This was odd behavior for Marcus. He usually wasn't afraid to say anything in the frankest way possible.

"Eh?" Ron repeated.

"His bread...is _buttered_... on the other side." Marcus tried again.

"Eh?" Ron repeated.

"Dumbledore's _gay_!" shouted Hermione. The entire room of floating people went quite and turned to look at her.


	37. I'll Sneak Home For Christmas

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 8: I'll Sneak Home For Christmas**

_"How many kings would step down from their thrones?"_

* * *

><p>Draco walked down the Hall of St. Mary Axe with his hamper full of unmentionables. He looked around the hall and ducked into the laundry room. He made a cursory inspection of the laundry room and walked over to a washer with 'OUT oF ORDER' spray painted on it. After one final look around the laundry room to make sure it was absolutely empty, he opened the door of the condemned washer.<p>

"All clear." he said into the depths. There was a clanging inside and Hermione poked her head out of the washing machine.

"You couldn't have picked a more convenient place to put your secret passage?" she asked climbing out of the machine.

"It was this or the out of order toilet stall." said Draco.

"It's not so bad going down." said Ron, coming out after Hermione. "The detergent lubricates the chute. Going up is a bit of a bother."

"So, what did you find out?" asked Draco as they left the laundry room.

"Four dead ends and one thing weird." said Hermione. For the past few weeks they had been tracking down the kin of the people listed in the ledger. So far, they had all been the same. People were sending back money and typed letters. One thing weird was the most promising lead they had all month.

"We found Miles Rauling's sister, Joan Rauling." said Ron. "Her brother went to off to work a month ago and someone has been calling her in the middle of the night."

"She has a stalker?" asked Draco.

"The calls come after midnight." said Hermione. "No voice, just a clicking sound, like the person on the other end is tapping on the mouth-piece. Joan says it's the rhythm of 'Good King Wenceslas'. Their father used to sing it to them when he was drunk."

"That was all the time." said Ron. "Their father died of a nasty case of stabbed two years ago, so we know it's not him."

"Do you think it's her brother calling her?" asked Draco. "How could he do that? If he's a Golem he'd have to be totally obedient to his owner."

"He has to do whatever he's told." said Hermione. "However he still has a degree of free will. Depending on the individual who's mutilated soul is trapped in the edifice, they're capable of more deviant behavior."

"So, if Neville Longbottom were a Golem, he'd just do everything he's told and otherwise hold still, but if Fred Weasley was a Golem he'd keep leaving a whoopie cushion on his boss's chair and sneaking snakes into his toilet." said Draco.

"Charming Draco." said Hermione. "But yes, that is the basic concept."

"And we know Golems can't talk." offered Ron. "So, if he wanted to reassure a loved one, tapping out a diddy would be his only option."

"That's actually really sweet," said Draco, "in the most mind-destroyingly depressing way possible." Miles could never be human again, all because he wanted to save his sister from poverty.

"So, what now?" asked Draco. "We wait at her house for him to call again and ask him to turn himself over to the ministry."

"If he knows Morse code, he could tell us where he is." said Ron.

"No to both." said Hermione rolling her eyes. "She gave me the phone number that's been calling her."

"Great." said Draco. They were finally getting somewhere. "We just call him and -"

"No!" said Hermione. "The phone number corresponds to a phone that someone either owns, but more likely is attached to a building."

"So, we just find out what house the phone number is for." said Ron.

"Yes." said Hermione.

"Then when go there and open a can of -"

"No." said Ron. "We tell Cynthia. The phone might be all the way in Burwick-upon-Tweed. We can't leave school for a week and go across the country. Umbridge would notice."

"I am not afraid of that cow." said Draco, rounding on Ron and Hermione. "We have a very real problem to deal with in the real world. Her royal Headmistress-ship 'My Mother Was A Frog And My Father Was Satan' Umbridge is an ignorant, mutated, puss-filled peon of a ministry that couldn't find its ass with both hand shoved down the back of its pants. She's turned the school into a reflection of her own simpering stupidity. I'm not about to roll over and let that vulture eat my entrails. If she has a problem with those of us who aren't actively making the place a worse place to live she can eat shit!"

He took a deep breath after his tirade was over. He hadn't meant to go off like that. There rage just wanted to get out. Hermione was fighting down a smirk. Ron had a nervous expression and was looking between Draco and something over Draco's shoulder.

"She's standing right behind me, isn't she?" asked Draco.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." said a girly voice behind him. He turned around to see the Headmistress in a fluffy pink overcoat. "As you know, school let's out for Christmas break tomorrow."

"Yes." he said.

"I understand you've been living with Ms. Monty Fur for the past three years." she said.

"It's Mon-tah-Fee-OR." said Draco. "Chair-wo-man Mon-tah-Fee-OR."

"She's not Chairwoman anymore." said Umbridge, waggling a finger. "The Ministry has seized her assets and will return the wealth she has stolen to the rightful owners."

Hermione stepped forward and took Draco's hand. The move narrowly saved Umbridge from having her nose impacted back into her head.

"Litigation isn't over yet." said Hermione. "From what I've been hearing, the prosecution can't get any of it's witnesses to agree."

The smile slipped off Umbridge's face.

"As I was saying," she said pulling a roll of parchment out of her overcoat, "you've been living unlawfully with Ms. Montefiore."

"I was turned over to her protective custody." said Draco. "I was being targeted by Death Eaters after I stabbed Voldemort in the face."

"There was never any evidence to confirm that-" started Umbridge.

"They threw a Chimaera into our garden." Draco cut her off. "You know what a Chimaera is, don't you? Blood thirsty monster, about this tall, way nicer than you."

"The Minister has upheld a plea!" Umbridge blustered. "On behalf of your father. You have been returned to Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy's custody. You will be spending Christmas with them. They will pick you up tomorrow at the main entrance."

She turned and walked away.

~o!o~

On the first day of Christmas Break, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Marcus looked down on the school from the deck of the Silvana. There was a steady stream of students pouring out of the main entrance. They saw the long blond hair of Lucius Malfoy and his wife. They all watched as Umbridge walked through the front doors with Draco in tow and hand him over to his parents. They each put an arm around Draco and led him to the waiting car.

His friends kept watching as the car drove off.

"There he goes," said Marcus, "into the belly of the beast."

"Voldemort's probably waiting for them at Malfoy Manor." said Ron. "Draco's going to have to tell him everything he knows about Cynthia's plans just to keep from being tortured to death."

"Poor thing." said Hermione, then she turned to Marcus. "So, how long does the duplicate last?"

"Three hours or until it's exposed to water." said Marcus. "Whichever comes first." He unzipped his backpack and the real Draco crawled out.

"It's a good thing I saved one of those from second year." said Draco.

The door to the cabin burst open and Tonk's green haired head popped out.

"Would you all get in here before you freeze to death?" she yelled out.

~o!o~

Christmas morning, everyone was gathered in the lounge of the Silvana. Cynthia had set up the customary bare tree in the side of the room. Cynthia wasn't big on decorations. Bill and Charlie had come back to Britain to celebrate Christmas with their family. Molly and Dobby had gone all out for Christmas. Draco strongly suspected that the Turkey was actually a resurrected pterodactyl. Cynthia had parked the Silvana in Paris, France.

It was amazing that in the midst of a hidden war, protracted litigation, and an onerous school year they could still muster up enough Christmas spirit so that everyone was walking around with permanent goofy grins on their faces.

"Having fun, Draco?" asked Cynthia, as she walked up behind him and hugged him. She had the biggest goofiest grin of them all. The day before Christmas break, she had been informed by Minister Fudge that Draco was being returned to his parents. When Draco had walked into the ship after being 'kidnapped' by his brothers, she had lit up like the sun.

"You're unusually cheerful." Draco teased. "Have you been hitting the firewhiskey?"

"Rubbish." said Cynthia, still grinning. "I only drink once a year, for seventeen straight hours, in a tavern in Norway."

"Seventeen hours?" asked Draco. "Nonstop?"

"Concentrated moderation." said Cynthia. "I'm so glad you're here." she gave him another squeeze.

Draco unwrapped his gift from Ginny. It was a dragon hide wallet with the runic symbol for Troll Killer emblazoned on the front. She knew him so well. He saw Dumbledore lounging in front of the window. Dumbledore had cut his hair and beard short. Cynthia had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he had to look less crazy for trial.

"Hello, Professor." said Draco sitting next to him.

"Hello, Draco." said Dumbledore. "Although it's not professor right now. Just Albus."

"Hogwarts is a joke without you, you know." said Draco.

"You are unfailingly kind." said Dumbledore. "Although, I hear the grade point average has gone up. Strangely, yourself, Ms. Granger, Mr. Montefiore, Mr. Potter, and all the Weasleys have perfect zeros."

"It wasn't easy." said Draco with a shrug.

"I don't want you to fail in protest." said Dumbledore. "Your future is important."

"Hey, Albus." said Draco. It sounded so wrong calling him by his name. "Do you know anything about Golems?"

"No," he said, taking a bite of figgy pudding, "can't say that I do. Most people claim they're just a myth. No one has even been rumored to make one for at least a century."

"Ah," he said. This was another dead end. Then he remembered the note scrawled in the book's margin. Hermione had looked everywhere in the library, but it had failed her. "Have you ever heard of Horcrux?"

Dumbledore started choking on his figgy pudding. Ginny walked up and started pounding him on the back.

"Thank you, Ms. Weasley." said Dumbledore, coughing. "If you'll excuse me, I need a drink." He got up and left.

"Hey." said Ginny.

"Hey." said Draco. Ginny and Draco could usually talk endlessly about nothing, but these days they were both a little nervous around each other.

"Thanks for the wallet." said Draco. "It's awesome."

"Your welcome." said Ginny. "Thanks for the necklace." she said, fingering the pendant around her neck. Draco had found a gold charm that emanated the smell of roses.

"Your welcome." he said.

Cynthia saved them from more awkward stuttering by wheeling in a cart laded with gifts.

"I have a few last minute presents." said Cynthia. "As you know, I may not have a company tomorrow, so I have to make use of my resources while I have them." she started tossing the long thin boxes to everyone.

"Awesome!" cried Fred and George. "Superconductor Wands!"

"Pretty." said Tonks, holding up her gold wand.

"I feel classy." said Mundungus, twiddling his silver wand around.

"It's a matter of time before the forces of evil get a hold of this technology." said Cynthia. "I want as many of the good guys to have dangerous weapons as possible. Just to even things out."

"Won't we all get destroyed?" asked Hermione.

"Yes." said Cynthia. "It's called Mutually Assured Destruction. It's the driving force behind world peace."

"It's kinda terrifying that one day we won't have the edge with our wands." Harry said to Draco

"You'll be ready." said Diego, walking up to them. "I'll teach all the tricks in the book. And a lot of tricks that aren't in the book. You missed a box, Harry." he handed Harry a small gift box.

Harry unwrapped it and pulled out a ring with a black stone on it.

"Mom gave me a ring?" he said. "She hates jewelry."

The ring glowed brightly and Harry's body sucked the light inside itself.

"One day," said Harry, "someone is going to tell me why that keeps happening."

~o!o~

Christmas night, Draco and Ginny were standing on the deck of the Silvana. Paris really was the city of light. Draco figured he could read a newspaper by the light of the Eiffel tower. It was extremely cold on deck. Draco and Ginny had a practical solution to this problem. Draco would put his arms around Ginny to keep her warm. It was completely practical. The warm, fuzzy feeling was pure coincidence.

"This is the best Christmas ever." said Ginny, hugging Draco's arms closer to her. "I've never been to Paris."

"I've been here before." said Draco. "I like it better this time, though."

The door on the lower deck opened and Dumbledore and Cynthia walked out. Dumbledore leaned against the rail. He pulled his wooden wand out of his robes and rolled it between his fingers.

"Knut for your thoughts, Albus." said Cynthia.

"Have I ever told you about my wand?" he asked.

"No." said Cynthia. "I assume you got it at Olivander's back before the Earth's crust cooled."

"Are you calling me old, Chairwoman?" said Dumbledore. "Just because you don't tell anyone your birthday doesn't mean you're immune to time."

"So," said Cynthia, "what about your wand?"

"I won it in the duel against Gellert Grindelwald." said Dumbledore.

Gellert Grindelwald had been the most dangerous dark wizard of all time before Voldemort appeared. Even with Voldemort around, Gridelwald had a higher body count to his name.

"Before Gellert, it was owned by Barnabas Deverill, Loxias, Emeric the Evil, Egbert the Egregious, Godelot, Hereward, and other warlocks of that ilk." said Dumbledore. "This wand is known as the Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, The Deathstick. It is said to bring terrible power to the owner. After I gained control of it, I found that was true." He have the Elder Wand a twirl. "I tested it in your lab. It has a Synchro rate of 45%." He pulled his new Superconductor Wand out of his coat. "This wand is Chromium, Technetium spiral, with a Diamond core. It has a Synchro rate of 65%. All the Superconductor Wands have a Synchro rate higher than the Deathstick. I had hoped I would die undefeated and the Elder Wand would loose its power."

"And the world would be free of such a dangerous weapon." finished Cynthia.

"And now everyone has more dangerous weapons." amended Dumbledore. He gave the Elder Wand a last look and threw it out over the railing where it fell hundreds of feet down to the Seine River. Cynthia rubbed his back comfortingly.

They were the very picture of crushed hope, and when the break was over they were both back in court. Maybe, Draco reasoned, they could do without being burdened with the knowledge of a Golem Army being formed. He was sure the Fifth House could handle it on their own. He could tell them later.

~o!o~

New Years Eve. The passing from one year to the other. It was an auspicious occasion. Ambitious individuals camped out for days in Times Square, New York to watch the ball drop on the stroke of midnight. If you came late, it was impossible to get a good spot. If you came late in flying ship, well, you got the best seats in the house.

The Silvana was hovering between the buildings around the square. Everyone was on deck watching the party going on below. Lupin and Kingsley were joining the crowd in a chorus of 'Old Lang Syne'. Draco was with the Weasley children and the rest of the Fifth House leaning against the railing and watching the ball light up.

"We've got to make the most of this." said Draco. "Umbridge is going to bust an artery when we get back to Hogwarts."

"I'll enjoy that." said Hermione. "And she'll never be able to prove I was involved."

"Actually, we left a note." said Ron. "We had to make it look like Draco was kidnapped so he wouldn't get in trouble."

"I signed your name." said Marcus. Hermione's face turned red with rage.

"Does anyone have any New Years resolutions?" asked Draco.

"We will cause more trouble." said Fred and George.

"I'm going to get better at flying." said Harry.

"I'm going to build a stable and lasting peace in the middle east." said Marcus.

"You said that last year." said Raleigh.

In the square, hundreds of people started counting down. The ball began its descent.

"You know," said Marcus, "it's customary to kiss someone on the stroke of midnight."

Everyone soaked this in for a second, then there was a mad rush as everyone on changed places. Draco, his body seeming to move on it's own, dashed to stand next to Ginny. Ron and Harry each stood on a different side of Hermione. Fred took off to where Cynthia was standing.

The ball dropped. Fireworks went off. The crowd below shouted 'Happy New Year!'. Arthur and Molly kissed. Kingsley and Dumbledore both kissed one of McGonagall's cheeks, and she dissolved into giggles. Tonks grabbed Lupin by his tie and dragged him into a kiss. Hermione turned suddenly towards Harry and kissed him. Fred screamed as he was thrown overboard.

Draco didn't notice any of this. He was totally absorbed in the feeling of Ginny's lips against his.


	38. Break the Freak Out

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 9: Break the Freak Out**

_"__Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.__"_

* * *

><p>When classes resumed in January, the Fifth House were immediately ushered into Umbridge's office.<p>

The Headmistress's Office took up the entire top floor of № 30 St. Mary Axe. It was a huge glass dome that was originally slated for the Astronomy Classroom, but had been taken over by Umbridge. She had set up pedestals all over the floor with decorative plates on them. The plates featured kittens gamboling, kittens playing, kittens dressed in lace, and something about cheeseburgers.

Umbridge was sitting behind an overly large desk sipping tea.

"Can I offer you some tea?" she asked sweetly.

"No." they all answered.

"It's no trouble." she said.

"No." they all answered.

"Go poison someone else." Draco added.

"Very well." said Umbridge putting her cup down and standing up. In her case that meant she got shorter. "You all know why you're here. You kidnapped Draco Malfoy last year."

"I wasn't actually involved." said Hermione.

In response, Umbridge pulled a note out of her desk drawer and held it up. An insulting and incriminating note was written in heavy black calligraphy:

_We kidnapped Draco Lucius Malfoy._

_ Suck it Umbridge._

_ Sincerely, Hermione J. Granger, Ron B. Weasley, Harry J. Potter, & Marcus Montefiore_

"That doesn't prove anything." said Hermione. "Everyone's signatures are in the same handwriting."

"What's your middle name, Marcus?" asked Draco.

"That's immaterial." said Marcus. "It's true. We kidnapped Draco. We'd do it again. He did not run away out of fear that Voldemort was at his house."

"Never the less, you will all be punished." said Umbridge.

"That's not fair." said Draco in mock anger.

"Shut up, Draco." said Hermione in a hollow voice.

"Let me introduce you to your new handlers." said Umbridge pointing behind them.

Draco turned around to see five hulking wizards in black robes. They looked like a frightening parody of the Secret Service.

"From now on they will accompany each of you to all your classes." said Umbridge. "They will follow you down the halls. They will be with you at meal times. They will bunk in your dorms. When you sneeze, they're going to be right there to blow your nose."

~o!o~

Later that week, Draco was seated at his usual table with his handler, Mericet. Marcus was sitting across from him next to his handler, Cruces. Marcus was calmly reading the fully illustrated autobiography of Donatien François, the Marquis de Sade. Cruces was slowly scooting away from him.

"Balls to this." said Ron, sandwiched between his and Hermione's handler. "We can't get away with anything anymore."

"Not that we were before." said Hermione, stirring around her lasagna.

"This won't last forever." said Harry. "If we keep out of trouble, Umbridge will get bored and pull back her dogs." His handler, Selachii, sneered at him. "No offense." Harry added.

"'S alright." shrugged Selachii.

~o!o~

Two months past. Mericet was just as attached to Draco' side as the first day they had assigned watch-dog duty. Harry's plan of waiting it out was taking forever. Forever had taken on transfinite values. It was going to be a slow, abrasive eternity of dull classes and being followed to the bathroom by a lumbering pervert.

"Why so glum, Draco?" said Marcus as they were coming out of Transfiguration.

"School is as dull as dishwater and I'm being followed around by an obtrusive shadow." Draco answered pointing his thumb back at Mericet.

"Our shadows aren't so bad." said Marcus, looking over his shoulder at Cruces. Cruces was leaning against the wall, looking rather pale.

"It's different for you." said Draco. "Your shadow is scared of you." Cruces gave Marcus a wide berth that the rest of them weren't allowed. This was in no small part due to Marcus's new found taste in literature. In the past few weeks, Marcus had read The Methodology of the Holocaust, The Connoisseurs Guide to the Spanish Inquisition, and The Psychopathy of Edward Gein. When he was feeling particularly malicious, he would read passages out loud.

"It can't last forever." said Marcus. "The weather is changing."

"It is not." said Draco. "Umbridge is ruling with the same iron fist that she always had."

"I mean the actual weather is actually changing." said Marcus pointing outside.

Draco turned to look over the city. There was a huge black cloud bank sweeping toward them. Lightning was leaping between different thunderheads. In a few minutes, the city would be invisible in the storm.

"Things will change, Draco." said Marcus, grabbing Draco's wrist and giving it a squeeze. Marcus walked off towards Potions with a reluctant Cruces following him.

Draco walked to History of Magic and got his parchment out to take notes. Professor bins began droning about the Giant Wars of North Africa. If anyone else was teaching this, the subject would have been interesting.

Mericet put on his sunglasses and a few minutes into the lecture Draco heard him snoring gently.

Draco reached up his sleeve and pulled out the small roll of paper Marcus had stuffed up his sleeve.

_Pack everything. Keep your bag with you. We meet in Umbridge's office when it goes dark._

~o!o~

Pack everything he says. We'll meet up in Umbridge's office he says. We'll hang her corpse out the window he says.

Ok, he hadn't said that last part, but that didn't exclude the possibility.

It had been a week since he got that note from Marcus. Since then, he had been carrying his back pack with him at all times. He made sure all his school books were right near the entrance, so Mericet wouldn't notice his backpack had an undetectable extension charm on it.

Draco had been waiting patiently. He assumed Marcus had a cunning plan. He was a Slytherin, after all, that was their job. Cunning plans were their life's blood. He had no idea what he meant by 'it goes dark', but he knew he'd know it when he saw it. Or didn't see it.

Day eight after he'd gotten the note, he was sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Hermione. She had been carrying her backpack around with her. Marcus must have slipped her a note, too.

Draco, uninterested in anything Umbridge was prattling on about, focused out the window. The weather had been getting worse since the first storm system descended on the island last week. Draco couldn't see anything through the window but a wall of gray and the occasional burst of lighting. For all he knew, the entire city could have been reduced to rubble or painted pink.

"Now," said Umbridge from the front of the room, "What is the appropriate course of action when you see someone being assaulted with unfriendly spells?"

"Contact Ministry wizards and retreat a safe distance." chimed the class in response.

"Use Aufbau's Incendiary Barrage." said Draco.

"I was thinking Celdebrand's Reduction Wave." said Hermione.

Umbridge turned red and drew herself up to her full (short) height.

"Those are not Ministry approved tactics." said Umbridge.

"There is more to life than what the ministry approves." said Grace Augustine. It said a lot about how hated Umbridge was when Ravenclaws were becoming confrontational.

"Classes were good before the Ministry took over." said Neville getting out of his seat. "I'm getting dumber attending your classes. I didn't even know that was possible!"

"Sit down, Mr. Longbottom!" trilled Umbridge. "I will give you detention if you don't take your seat!"

"Who bloody sodding cares?" yelled Neville.

"_I _don't!" yelled Padma Patil. She threw her book at Umbridge who ducked to avoid it. "It's not even _worth_ it to stay in this joke of a school!"

Umbridge was red with anger and pale with fright. She had just realized one of the fundamental truths of being a teacher: You were outnumbered.

Draco and Hermione's handlers were looking around the room. Watching a brat was one thing, but fighting off a whole crowd of them was something else.

"Now listen here!" said Umbridge backing up. "_I _am Headmistress of this school! And all of you will -"

Then a cloud of black smoke came shooting into the class around the seams of the door. Umbridge jumped away, but wasn't fast enough. The dark cloud enveloped the room in seconds. Draco seized his chance and shot a stunning charm where Mericet was a second ago. He couldn't even see the red light of the spell in the black cloud, but he heard a satisfying grunt coming from Mericet's last location.

He groped around in his pocket and pulled out his monocle. He set it in his eye and the shapes of the classroom showed themselves. Students were groping around in the blinding smoke. He saw Hermione standing over what looked like a weasel and her handler's body was no where to be seen. He guessed she had gone a more creative route than stunning.

"I guess this is what Marcus meant by going dark." said Hermione reaching out and grabbing Draco's arm. "Do you have your monacle? I left mine in my backpack."

"Yes." said Draco, trying not to inhale.

"You can breath, Draco." said Hermione. "This isn't smoke."

Draco started breathing again. He had automatically held his breath when the cloud engulfed them. He inhaled and found it didn't have the texture of smoke, it felt as natural as breathing air. It didn't bother his eyes either.

"What is this?" asked Draco as he grabbed his and Hermione's backpacks.

"No idea." said Hermione. "Marcus will explain it when we get to Umbridge's office."

Draco pulled Hermione behind him out of the classroom. The hallways were just as pitch dark as the classroom had been. On their way up to Umbridge's office they passed a lot of students stumbling through the hallways.

As they past the shape of Slytherin Prefect Montague, Draco punched him out as they ran past.

"What was that?" asked Hermione as he hit the floor.

"I knocked over a coat rack." said Draco.

They ran up the last staircase and came up into Umbridge's office. Her office was clear as day. You could see the storm clouds roiling overhead.

Ron and Marcus were already up there. Cruces was sitting against the wall, sobbing quietly.

"Do you have everything?" asked Marcus, shaking his own backpack.

"Everything." said Hermione. "I stole some curative potions from Madame Pomfrey for when it really hits the fan."

"Good thinking." said Harry coming up the stairs. He was dragging Selachii's unconscious body behind him. "He slapped these manacles on me before I could stun him." he explained jingling the chains on his wrist.

"I'll cut off the hand at the wrist." said Ron, pulling his wand out.

"No!" screamed Harry, backing away from Ron.

"Not your hand. His." said Ron.

"Oh," said Harry, relaxing.

"How did you make the school go dark?" asked Hermione looking away.

"We sunk our allowance into Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." said Marcus.

"I had it delivered to Fred and George in bottles of ink." said Ron. "They released it into the water for the sprinkler system."

"That's brilliant, but what did it accomplish?" asked Hermione. "The darkness will clear up, Umbridge will go spare, and we'll have _two _handlers following each of us around."

"Fortunately, you have the next part of the plan." said Marcus.

"I do?" she asked. She had a foreign expression on her face. Draco imagined it was the one she would wear if a teacher asked her for an assignment that she had forgotten.

"Did you find where that number was coming from? The one that was calling Joan Rauling." Marcus asked.

"That's a dead end." said Hermione. "It's a public telephone box in Dover."

"It's a telephone box that has a Golem visiting it every night." said Marcus walking over to the nearest glass panel. "It's something to go on."

He waved his wand and the glass panel melted. Wind and rain blew in from outside.

"What are you doing?" yelled Hermione over the gale.

"We're leaving!" answered Marcus, pulling his titanium broom out of his backpack.

"You want us to fly away from school?" yelled Hermione. "There's a storm out there! With lightning!"

"It's perfect cover!" yelled Draco, pulling his own broom out of his backpack.

"We can't just run away!" yelled Hermione. "We'd miss class and fail tests." This sentence replayed in her head and she was unimpressed with her own excuse. "Well, people would worry about us."

"Mother never worries about anything!" said Marcus.

"Mine worries about everything!" yelled Ron.

"Yours won't even know!" yelled Harry, who now had a bloody manacle dangling off one wrist. "You can ride shotgun!" he held up his own broom and wiggled his eyebrows.

"If you stay behind, you have to explain everything to Umbridge!" said Draco.

Hermione looked around at Umbridge's kitten adorned office.

"Okay, fine" she said. "But first." she pulled out her wand and waved it above her head. There was a sound like a cannon going off and Draco felt a wave sound reverberating through his body. All of the plates shattered and the glass ceiling fell in.

Draco got on his broom and made sure his backpack was on snugly. Hermione climbed on Harry's while Ron got with Marcus.

"There's no going back after this!" said Marcus.

"I don't want to go back after this!" said Draco and kicked off into the air. He flew up through the empty pane. The ice shards in the clouds stung his face as he raced through the air. Lighting flashed around him and rain soaked through his hair.

Then, like he was stepping across a threshold, the clouds were gone. He had flown above the storm. He saw Marcus, Ron, Hermione, and Harry punch through the clouds behind him. The sky was an endless blue above him and the clouds twisted and swayed below them like an ocean. Some thunderheads rose like giant pillars. Draco looked farther up to see the sun shinning on them.

"It's beautiful." said Hermione.

They turned and flew off towards the White Cliffs of Dover.

~o!o~

Cruces and Selachii were having a bad day. They had been stunned. One of them had his hand cut off. Madame Pomfrey had reattached it in a trice, but waking up to find you can only count to five is disturbing.

But nothing compared to this. Being held off the ground by your neck in the iron clutch of Cynthia Montefiore.

"HOW!" she thundered. "DID THIS HAPPEN!"

They both tried to croak out an excuse, Cynthia's grasp was too tight to let air through.

Dumbledore surveyed the damage to the Headmistress's office of № 30 St. Mary Axe. The once beautiful glass spire was a birdcage of metal struts. The floor was covered in glass shards and broken china. Rain was falling down on them freely. With every step he took, there was a crunching sound underfoot.

"Chairwoman," coaxed McGonagall, trying to pull Cruces back to ground level. "Violence isn't the answer."

"They lost my children!" yelled Cynthia. "If I had a third arm it would be twisting Mericet's head off!"

"Can I go?" asked Hermione's handler in a small voice.

"You're next!" brayed Cynthia.

He cowered behind Lucius Malfoy. He had never been afraid of Cynthia before, but seeing her holding up a two hundred pound bodyguard in each hand inspires fear in person.

"Mericet was guarding _my _son." said Lucius. "If anyone is going to tear his head, off it's going to be me."

Cynthia dropped both men on the ground and rounded on Umbridge.

"How did this happen, Dolores!" she yelled at the cowering woman. "This building comes equipped with a state of the art security system! But I guess you didn't bother to even read the fucking manual!"

"Your son was the ring leader here!" said Umbridge defensively.

"Which?" asked Cynthia.

"Pardon?" asked Umbridge.

"Which of my sons. I have five." clarified Cynthia.

"Oh, Marcus." said Umbridge.

"Marcus!" Cynthia yelled into the storm. "When I find you, you are cleaning _all _of this up! Diego!" she spun back around.

"Yes?" said Diego.

"Fetch Raleigh and bring him aboard the Silvana." said Cynthia. "He's to stay there until further notice. Impress upon him very strongly that any attempt to run off and find his brothers will be dealt with harshly. Tell Molly to do a search of the island. Set the scanners for dunce."

"What's a Silvana?" asked Lucius.

"It's a jam donut." said Cynthia. She marched over to the window, or where the window used to be, and stared out into the storm.

The five bodyguards slunk away while Lucius and Umbridge got together to collude on how they could put this on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore walked over to Cynthia and handed her a hanky. Cynthia took it, wiped her eyes quickly, and handed it back.

"There out there somewhere." she said quietly. "It's a world of hazards and monsters and they can't protect themselves."

"They'll be alright." said Dumbledore. "They were taught by the best."

Cynthia looked around the ruins of the Headmistresses office.

"I think we might have skipped a crucial lesson." she said.


	39. Stake Out

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 10: Stake Out**

_"When you walk along a precipice, make sure you know which way the wind is blowing__.__"_

* * *

><p>Draco kept his eyes glued to the telescope. The telescope poked through an inconspicuous gap in the curtains and was pointed at the red telephone box down the street.<p>

A week ago, when they first broke out of № 30 St. Mary Axe, they had made a beeline for the city of Dover. The city was famous for its white seaside cliffs and unknown for its Golems. After a few false starts, they had found the phone box Joan Rauling was being called from.

The next move was to find somewhere they could stake out the phone box. They had found a cottage down the street. It was the cottage all the other cottages beat up at cottage school. It had a closet, that on closer inspection was a bedroom, half a bathroom, and one kitchen, which, if you were flexible, you could boil an egg in.

The owner, one Danny Beasley, had spontaneously decided to take a holiday in South Africa. Since then, they had been watering his plants, sorting his mail, and spying on the phone box through the kitchen window. They took shifts of three hours each. The ones that weren't keeping watch would get some sleep, prepare supper, or wander around the town looking for any other leads and filching food.

Right now, Draco was watching the phone box. The failing light of sunset was making it hard to see, but in a few minutes the street light would come on. The street light hadn't been there _before_ they had arrived. They'd moved the closest one a few blocks over.

Ron was shifting pans around on the stove. Molly Weasley was a spectacular cook and as a result, Ron was the only one among them that knew recipes besides how to make charcoal.

Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table typing something into his console.

Harry and Hermione were in the city, hopefully finding some sour cream to go with the chips.

The phone box had been just as uninteresting as it was yesterday, and the day before that. Draco was beginning to think that the Golem was using a different box. For all he knew, the Golem could have gone to a different continent.

He heard a creaking noise as Marcus leaned back from his console and take a stretch.

"Dinner smells good, Ron." Marcus said.

"Thanks." said Ron, not turning away from the skillet.

"You are an invaluable member of the team." Marcus continued.

"Thanks." said Ron.

"You seem distracted." said Marcus.

"Thanks." said Ron.

"Voldemort is coming for tea tomorrow, so make sure to whip up some biscotti." said Marcus.

"Thanks." said Ron. "Wait, what?" he asked, turning around finally.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" asked Marcus.

"No." he said.

"Well," Marcus said, checking his watch, "Harry should be back soon with Hermione so-"

"What does he have that I don't?" Ron cut in angrily. "A nasty ass scar and international fame! So, what?"

"Hermione is not that shallow." said Draco.

"Is it because I'm a Slytherin?" Ron asked. "I can apply for resorting."

"We just dropped out of school." reminded Marcus. "Look, they're a couple today, but what about tomorrow? He might get tired of the fact that she makes flow charts for everything. She might think he's a loser because he can't fly well."

"He's getting better at that." said Draco, who couldn't resist poking the hornets nest.

"My point is," said Marcus, "the person you're in love with at fourteen might not be forever. This isn't a fairytale."

"And if this goes bad, Harry might be killed." said Draco.

"Draco!" scolded Marcus. "Why don't we call up Ginny at № 30 St. Mary Axe? I think Zacharias Smith must have made his move by now."

"Not funny." said Draco, who's imagination had kicked on without his consent.

"You know he was only holding back because he was afraid of you." continued Marcus. Draco dive tackled him, abandoning the telescope.

They wrestled around on the floor. Marcus trying, in vain, to escape Draco's clutches.

"Sooner or later," Marcus choked out, while in a headlock, "those lonely nights are going to be too much for her."

"Shut up!" Draco said, not quite managing to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"She'll need someone to comfort he when we all die on this suicidal mission." Marcus said, and they both dissolved into laughter on the kitchen floor. Even Ron was laughing at their stupidity.

"I just have to use the loo." said Ron, chuckling. "Make sure dinner doesn't burn."

Marcus and Draco stayed on the floor for a little while, their laughter dying away.

"You think Harry and Hermione will really break up?" asked Draco.

"Not a chance." said Marcus. "That's the real thing. I was there when they first met, you know."

"Really?" said Draco. "Was the air electrified? Did the angels sing?"

"We were eleven." said Marcus. "Harry didn't even notice she was a girl for another two years."

Draco took a deep breath, then asked the question that was nagging at his mind. "You don't think Ginny would really-"

"Not a chance." said Marcus. "You could have all your skin peeled off and you'd still look better than Zacharias Smith. _And _he's a Hufflepuff."

"I love you, bro." said Draco.

"I love you, too." said Marcus, reaching over and squeezing his brother's hand.

There was a series of raps at the door that played out the rhythm to God Save the Queen.

Marcus groaned and flipped up to is feet. He walked over to the door and pushed it open.

"For the twelfth time," he said into the empty street, "we are not using a secret knock."

He stood aside and Harry and Hermione appeared in the doorway, pulling off the invisibility cloak.

"What if it was a policeman at the door?" asked Harry, putting a bag of groceries on the dining table.

"Then we obliviate him." said Marcus, sitting back down at his console.

"What if it's a Death Eater?" asked Hermione.

"Then we obliterate him." said Marcus. "What's new in the world?"

Hermione unfurled the copy of the Daily Prophet she had found.

"Cynthia and Dumbledore are still being dragged into court. Cynthia is being accused of industrial sabotage." said Hermione. "When asked for comment about the recent breakout at № 30 St. Mary Axe she would only say: 'Marcus, you're in deep shit!'"

Marcus's expression didn't change, but his already pale face further lost color.

"I'll take over for Draco." he said turning away from his console. Draco handed over the telescope and went to sit at the dining table.

When Ron came back from the loo, he dished out supper and they all sat around the table. Hermione divided her time between eating and typing on the console.

"What are you looking for?" asked Draco.

"I'm checking world news sources for any disasters that might be caused by a Golem Army." she said. "So far, nothing."

"That's good news." said Ron.

They continued eating quietly. Hermione took a break from looking up disaster stories and pulled up an episode of 'The Honeymooners' that Marcus had saved on his console. They let it play in the background and giggled occasionally at Art Carney.

"I see something." said Marcus suddenly.

The reaction was instantaneous. Everyone jumped out of their seats. Ron switched off all the lights. Hermione shrunk the console. Draco reached up on top of the cabinet. It was a black box with a single button and a long antenna. They had made it out of Danny Beasley's old TV. Then they all stacked their heads along the narrow gap in the curtains.

They saw things often. Sometimes it was a cat. Mostly it was just someone making a call. The man in the house next door used it to call his mistress so his wife wouldn't catch on. These false alarms were the only entertainment they had, so they treated every incident very seriously. This time, they had hit pay dirt.

Draco stared into the lamplight and eventually saw what Marcus had warned them about. A slab of sidewalk was slowly pushing itself out of the ground. Eventually, it moved aside and something started coming out of the ground. Draco could make out a small humanoid shape pulling itself up. If it was a Golem, it was very different from the ones they had seen before. It was small, short and skinny. The hands were disproportionally big, like someone had put shovels on the ends of its arms.

It ambled over to the phone booth, opened the door and stepped inside. It picked up the receiver and began to dial.

"Draco." said Marcus.

Draco pushed the button on the remote. He couldn't see it, but in the phone booth, he knew the trap they had set up had sprung. In the roof of the phone box the contents of three canisters would mix together and pour onto whatever was inside. It was a composite of industrial adhesive, terracotta, and quick drying cement. They had also enchanted it with a modified permanent sticking charm. The solution would mix with a tracking beacon they had made. The mix would land on the Golem and in a few seconds would set as hard as sheet rock, cementing the beacon in place forever.

The console would be able to sense the beacon and tell them exactly where the Golem was going.

~o!o~

"Do you see it _yet_?" asked an exhausted Ron.

Every since the Golem had crawled back underground they had been walking the streets of Dover trying to pick up the signal from the beacon. They had pounded the pavement all night and all through the day, now the sun was setting.

Draco was leading the tired group down the beach near the city. The White Cliffs of Dover were on his left while the waves crashed against the shore on their right. He kept his eyes glued to his console, silently begging it to go 'ping'. The beacon wasn't designed to get a signal out from under the Earth's crust.

Marcus was soldiering on behind him. Harry and Ron were carrying an exhausted Hermione between them.

"Can we give up now?" asked Hermione. "We have no idea where the tunnel comes out. We should have just followed it down."

"We can't just go down strange holes." said Marcus. "We don't know what would be waiting at the bottom."

"There might be a bigger Golem down there," said Harry, "like the one we saw that was made of swords."

"Or snakes." offered Ron.

"Ok, fine." snapped Hermione. "Again, we don't know where the tunnel comes out. It might go under the English channel. We've been looking all day. We should go back to the cottage and think of a new plan."

"Maybe we could make a stronger beacon." suggested Ron.

"Not with the supplies we have." said Marcus. "If the Golem's owner finds our first beacon on it, he'll lock down whatever he's doing and Miles won't return to that phone booth. We won't get another chance."

"So, our choices are go down the strange tunnel," said Hermione, "keep walking across Britain, or give up and go home."

"It's not that hopeless." said Marcus. "We know it's subterranean. All we have to do is Dementor."

"Dementor?" asked Draco, turning to face Marcus.

"Dementor!" he yelled pointing over Draco's shoulder.

Draco turned around to see a black shroud flying down the beach. Draco turned back and began running away. Hermione had gotten her second wind and was outpacing Ron and Harry.

"Bugger!" she shouted stopping short. Draco saw down the other end of the beach were several more Dementors converging on them.

Draco pulled off his back pack with the aim to pull out his broom and fly away. He looked up to the sky and what he saw dashed his hope of escape. Dementors, dozens of them were coming off the top of the cliff and filling the sky, like a flock of starlings.

They swarmed around them, across the beach and over the surface of the water. Draco felt an icy dread creeping over him. He backed up against the side of the cliff to try and escape the feeling of despair. They all had their backs against the white cliff, surrounded on all sides by soul sucking demons.

"Why are they after us?" asked Ron.

"I'm willing to bet Umbridge sent them to catch us." said Hermione. "When I find her she isn't going to fair any better than her kitty dishes." the venom in her voice was undercut by the sound of dread. "I wish I'd learned how to cast a patronus." she lamented as the Dementors floated closer.

They were all silent after that, watching the rattling black shrouds. Next to Draco, Harry grabbed his hand. Draco reached to his other side and grabbed Marcus. He wondered what dying was like. Do you go to the same place if you have your soul sucked out of you.

"I can." said Marcus in a small voice.

"What?" asked Draco.

"I can cast a patronus." said Marcus.

"You can?" said Hermione, relief coating her voice. "Do it! Do it now!"

"I don't want to." he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Why the hell-!" started Draco, but Harry push past him and grabbed Marcus by his shoulders.

"We need you, Marcus." implored Harry. "Think of how happy Raleigh will be when his brother comes home to him."

That did it. Marcus slipped his wand out of his sleeve and yelled the incantation.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

A glittering shape flew out of his wand. The icy dread that just had its talons in Draco's heart was gone in an instant. All the Dementors stopped in mid-stalked and stared at them, dumbstruck.

Hermione stared at the patronus, trying not to smile.

"Is that...?" she tried to ask.

"It's a tortoise." said Marcus, grudginly.

It was a small glittering tortoise standing on the sand looking out over the waves of Dementors, daring them to come closer.

"Right now," said Ron, "It's the most handsome tortoise I've ever seen."

"It's a sodding tortoise." said Marcus. "It's not even a Gallapagos Tortoise. I would have settled for a sea turtle. What does it say about me that my patronus is a tortoise?"

"As of right now," said Hermione, "it says you saved our collective posterior. Now let's get out of here."

"We can't." said Marcus, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sure we can." said Hermione. "We get on our brooms. Tortoise will carve a path for us-"

"He doesn't move." said Marcus.

"Eh?" asked Hermione.

"I can't get him to move." said Marcus. "He just stands there."

They all looked down to the resolute tortoise. Draco tried to prod it with his foot, but his toe just passed though it.

"Diego says he gives a wider berth of protection than most patronus." said Marcus, trying to save face.

Draco looked around at the Dementors. They were indeed giving them a wide berth. They could have played a regulation quidditch match inside the patronus's shield.

"What do we do then?" asked Hermione, glaring down at the obstinate tortoise.

"Wait for them to get tired and give up." said Marcus. "Unless you want to tunnel into the cliff side."

Draco looked out over the swarming Dementors, then turned towards the cliff and brandished his wand.

"_Bombarda!_" he incanted. The chalk white of the cliff exploded showering them with debris.

"I wasn't being serious." said Marcus, brushing gravel out of his hair.

"I am." said Draco shooting another curse at the stone. He kept blasting the side of the cliff. He could feel the energy draining out of him. The bane of the Superconductor Wand was that it used more magic and you tire faster.

"Draco." said Hermione, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This isn't going to work. We can't tunnel to safe-"

Then a final section of stone fell away, there was no more white rock, Draco only saw a dark hole.

"It's a cave!" yelled Ron, running forward.

"Everyone run into the strange hole!" yelled Harry, picking up the tired Draco and dragging him forward. When Harry finally dragged Draco into the darkness Hermione flicked her wand at the beach. The sand picked up like a wave and came rushing toward them. The wave of sand crashed against the entrance and cutting off the light of day. In the darkness, Draco heard Hermione muttering something and then the crackling sound of the sand melting into one solid stone.

Harry, Ron, and Marcus all lit up there wands. Draco looked around the cave, expecting to see a room full of stalactites and creepy crawlies. He was sadly disappointed. The walls and ceiling were perfectly smooth. It looked as uniform as any hallway.

"We're alive." breathed Hermione.

"Yes." agreed Ron a grin spreading over his once panicked face. "We fought off a swarm of Dementors."

"We escaped." corrected Hermione, grinning just as big.

"When we retell it, we fought them all off." said Draco, feeling the weight of imminent soul sucking drop off his shoulders.

"And my patronus was a dragon." added Marcus.

They shared a laugh at this and walked down the tunnel. The tunnel made several curves, twists and ninety degree turns, but it never branched off.

Eventually, they came to a cavern. This cavern was natural. It had stalactites, dripping water from the ceiling, bats, the whole damn works. There were several tunnels leading out of it identical to the one they had entered through.

"Where do we go from here?" asked Ron, pointing the light of his wand at various corners of the cavern.

"Up there." pointed Marcus.

Draco looked where he was pointing to see a shelf of rock near the ceiling.

"Why there?" asked Harry.

"We can lay out the sleeping bags up there." said Marcus.

When he heard that suggestion, Draco realized how much his entire body hurt and remembered he hadn't slept since yesterday.

"I agree." he said.

"Same here." said Ron.

"I'm bushed." said Harry.

"Mortal danger will still be there in the morning." said Hermione, and they all began the trek up to the shelf.

There was a space of four feet between the shelf and the ceiling of the cavern. Draco walked around on his knees and pulled his sleeping bag out of his backpack. He considered sleeping inside his backpack, where there was room to stand up. Then again, if the magic that expanded the interior suddenly broke while he was inside, he'd be expelled from the bag with the same consistency as toothpaste.

He unrolled his sleeping bag and lay himself down on top of it. The underground cavern was pleasantly warm. Draco sunk into the plush fabric and took a deep sigh of relief. Turning his head to the left he saw Ron and Marcus were snuggled into their sleeping bags. Ron was already snoring.

He looked to his left and saw Harry and Hermione had put their sleeping bags together. Harry had his arm coiled protectively around Hermione's sleeping form. Draco's mind wandered to Ginny. He hoped she was doing well, whatever was going on. You could say what you wanted about № 30 St. Mary Axe, it did not get attacked by Dementors.

The only sound he heard was his friends' deep, rhythmic breathing. The only light was coming from the luminescent hands of Marcus's Mickey Mouse watch.

Draco surrendered himself to blissful sleep, deeply content that the pesky sun wasn't going to wake him up early.


	40. The 4:10 to London

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 11: The 4:10 to London  
><strong>

_"Everyone has a breaking point__.__"_

* * *

><p>"...AND I WILL TEAR OUT BOTH YOUR EYES AND STUFF THE SOCKETS WITH...!"<p>

This had been going on since the break out at № 30 St. Mary Axe. Molly Weasley stood at the door outside Cynthia's suite on the HMAS Silvana. She was holding a lunch tray and waiting for a break in the screaming. Molly had no idea who at Cynthia was screaming. She was alone in the room.

"...PULL YOUR LEGS OFF WITH WILD HYENAS AND FEED YOU YOUR OWN-"

If it was anyone else, Molly would have knocked, but she had never seen Cynthia loose control like this. She wasn't necessarily loosing control. She had been more or less collected at the school. She had been cooperative at the Ministry that afternoon. She didn't start going monkey-poo until she was on board the Silvana. Even then, she waited until Raleigh was moved to a soundproof room.

"...HAVE YOUR BODY FILLED WITH LIVE PIRHANAS!"

The screaming stopped abruptly and the double doors opened up. Cynthia stood before Molly, her console in hand.

"Did you get a hold of Marcus?" asked Molly, handing the tray over.

"No." said Cynthia, taking the tray and walking back into her suite. "I was leaving a message. Wherever he is, there's no signal."

Molly followed her into the suite. Cynthia sat down on her sofa, setting her tray down on the coffee table. She ignored her food and started dialing he console again.

"Who are you calling?" asked Molly, knowing full well who it was. She'd been calling all the missing children ceaselessly.

"Harry." she answered. "Then I'll try Draco. Then Hermione. Then Ron. Then Marcus again."

"You just called him." said Molly. "He could probably hear you from here."

"He might pick up this time." said Cynthia.

Molly reached forward and put her hand over the console. Cynthia glared up at her and Molly took a step back.

"I just think you might be a little..." started Molly. How could someone's glare actually hurt? "You're panicking."

"Of course I'm panicking!" Cynthia jumped off the couch. "I don't know where my children are! I'm missing three out of five of my children! That's a 60% rate of failure! I would fire me!"

"This isn't your fault." quelled Molly. She would have tried to hug Cynthia, two mothers bonding over a common tragedy, but Cynthia was radiating fury. This was not an exaggeration. She was glowing red.

"I always knew where my children were!" she said, pacing down the suite. "Every time I had to leave on business, I always took them with me. I footed the bill for three different Hogwarts so I'd know where they were. I've known every day for nearly eleven years and now they have broken my streak! When I find you-!" she yelled at her console. She stopped when she realized it wasn't on and threw it at the far wall.

"If we don't know where they are then the Death Eaters don't know either." said Molly. "And when we do find Ron, I want in on the Hyenas thing."

"That's something very special." said Cynthia. "That only I am licensed to do."

"You trust Diego enough to let him out on his own." said Molly. "Maybe the others just wanted to spread their wings."

"I don't trust Diego at all!" she said. "He only goes where I send him. He's the one I lost track of eleven years ago. He was missing for three months and when I found him again he had Raleigh with him."

"That's how you found Raleigh?" asked Molly.

Cynthia walked over to her desk and pulled something out of the side drawer. She walked back to Molly and handed her a picture.

Molly took it. It was a muggle photograph. A seventeen year old Diego had his arms around a girl with tawny red hair.

"That's my daughter, Silvana Van der Waal." said Cynthia, pointing to the girl. "The week after I...extracted Marcus from the prison in Siberia we left for Bloemfontein, South Africa. I was contracted to build an wireless transmitter for the South African Ministry Radio service.

"While I was working, Diego went to a muggle school and studied magic in his free time. He was learning to build rotary motors and cast the Homorphus Charm at the same time. I was so proud of him." Cynthia's red aura had subsided as she reminisced.

"At the same time, we were both taking care of Marcus. We were both busy, but we played with him every chance we got. He used to laugh all the time, you know."

Molly tried to picture the dead pan face of Marcus contorted in glee. She couldn't.

"Diego met Silvana at school." Cynthia continued. "She was a muggle. They were very good friends, then one day I turned my back and she was his girlfriend.

"It was in this time that there was anti-muggle rioting from the wizards in Bloemfontein. Whole neighborhoods would turn to ash overnight. One day, Silvana disappeared." Cynthia eyes started to water, and Molly scooted closer to her on the couch.

"Diego took his wand and ran out of the house to look for her. Before I could catch up to him, he Apparated away."

Cynthia stopped, to take a steadying breath. Tears were falling down her face freely. Molly put a hand over Cynthia's shoulder.

"I got an owl three months later. It was an address." said Cynthia. "I followed it to a high rise. It was being used by a wizard gang. They had been credited with several mass murders. Diego had infiltrated them. He found they were keeping Silvana in the basement, but he couldn't get to her. That's why he contacted me."

"Did you get her out?" asked Molly.

"There were two hundred skilled, bloodthirsty wizards in that building." said Cynthia. "The only way she was getting out of there was if we killed every last one of them."

"What did you do?" asked Molly.

"We killed every last one of them." said Cynthia. Molly froze in place. She was one of the few students that was interested in History of Magic. She had never heard of that many wizards being killed at the same time, let alone by the same person.

"They had...done...many things to Silvana." Cynthia continued in a small voice. "Some of the curses couldn't be identified. Her wounds were complex. And she was pregnant."

Molly didn't like where this was going.

"I formally adopted her so there would be no issue when the child was born. We were her family. We would take care of them." Cynthia finished. "Her injuries were more severe than we thought. She didn't survive the birth."

"I'm sorry." said Molly, trying to hold back a sob.

"We named him Raleigh." continued Cynthia, a smile coming onto her tear streaked face. "You know, we didn't put him down for the first year that we had him. The three of us just took turns holding him."

"Marcus saw us crying all the time. He felt so helpless. He loved Silvana, too, but he was determined to stay strong. He put a mask on and wouldn't let himself be sad. He never made another facial expression again."

"I don't know who the father is." said Cynthia. "I never knew if Diego and Silvana were...or if it was one of her abductors..." she just trailed off.

"Raleigh could be...Diego's son?" asked Molly.

"He's _my _son!" said Cynthia, jumping up off the couch. "There all mine! Diego, Marcus, Draco, Harry, Raleigh! Mine and no one else's! And when I find the middle three-" she stormed down the hall "-heads are gonna roll!"

~o!o~

Draco was woken up by a 'ping'. He cracked his eye open to see blackness above him. He wondered how much sleep he'd gotten. He reached down into his pocket to check his console. Instead of seeing a clock on the screen, he saw the a moving, little red dot on a grid. The machine gave another ping. The console had found the beacon!

He shoved the two sleeping bodies on either side of him. Marcus sat up and Draco thrust the console in front of him. He grabbed the screen with one hand and punched Ron's sleeping bad with the other.

"Whu-" he sat up and struck his head against the low rock ceiling. "Mother-"

Marcus clapped a hand over Ron's mouth and showed him the console screen.

The dot was moving towards them steadily they all peeked over the side of the rock shelf. The saw nothing but utter darkness. Draco pulled out his monocle and the cavern came into visibility. The rustling sound he heard around him told him that the others had the same idea.

He heard a rhythmic pounding, like an army was marching down on them. Then a column of short figures walked out of the passage on the far left. There were five of them walking across the cavern in a single file line. They had big shovel-like hands and glowing red eyes.

There was an immediate scuffle as they all packed up their sleeping bags and slid their backpacks on. Marcus was the first one ready and jumped off the shelf. Draco followed soon after and landed light as a feather fifteen feet below.

Hermione landed beside him and lit up her wand.

"What-" he turned to face her as the cavern was illuminated. They'd be sitting ducks with the

"They won't notice us." said Hermione.

Draco looked at the approaching column of Golems. They kept marching along like nothing had changed.

"They're focused on whatever command they've been given." said Hermione. "They don't care about anything else."

Draco was forcibly reminded of the fate awaiting Umbridge's remaining students.

The last Golem on the line had a lump of terracotta cemented to his head, like someone had dropped quick drying cement on him.

"Miles!" Draco called out as the column passed them. The last Golem stopped and turned around.

Finally, they had found him.

"Now what?" Harry asked. "Do we ask it who's in charge?"

"It can't talk." said Hermione.

"He." corrected Draco.

"Does he know Morse code?" asked Ron. "Do you know Morse code?"

Miles' Golem didn't respond.

"Miles." said Draco. "I don't know if you can really understand me. Your sister told us how to find you. Well, not really. She doesn't know what happened to you. We traced the number to the phone box you were using and then we ...bugged your...self."

The Golems shovel-like hand reached up to scratch the mortar patch.

"And we followed you down here." Draco continued. "Actually, that's a lie. We were chased in here by Dementors."

"They're soul sucking dark creatures." offered Ron for Miles' benefit.

"There really nasty." said Harry. "Marcus's tortoise patronus saved us."

"Dragon." corrected Marcus.

"And we were sleeping in here." continued Draco. "and we saw the beacon on the console."

"It's like a computer, but it uses magic." explained Hermione.

"And now that we've found you we just need you to... understand what the hell we're talking about." finished Draco as the Golem stared on uncomprehendingly.

"Look, we know you're worried about Joan," said Draco, "and if you help us out, we'll make sure she's safe."

The Golem didn't react at first, then gave a full body shudder. It turned around and started walking down a different corridor than the other Golems had left through. Draco and the others followed behind it.

~o!o~

After what felt like following the Golem down the entire Catacombs of Rome, they finally reached a trapdoor in the ceiling.

"Is this the exit?" asked a tired Ron.

The Golem didn't answer.

"I'll just take a peek..." started Hermione, but Ron jumped right out of the trapdoor. Sunlight came streaming down.

"Freedom!" he shouted from outside.

"How did he ever make it into Slytherin?" asked Marcus following him up. "He's as subtle as a flatulent rhinoceros."

Draco followed him up and looked around as his eyes adjusted. They had come up in a train yard. They were between two rails full of box cars. There was no one else up here. Ron was lying on the gravel looking up into the Sun.

"Did you ever notice how yellow the Sun is?" Ron asked.

"You won't be able to appreciate it much longer if you keep staring into it." said Marcus, examining his console. "We're just North of Dover."

"So, what does an army of Golems, an underground tunnel system, and a railway yard have in common?" asked Harry, pulling himself out of the cavern.

"Three things you don't want your neighbors to build in their yard." said Draco, looking back down the trapdoor. He wanted to thank Miles, but he was gone.

"They must need to use the trains for something." he said, closing the trap door back. It turned the color and texture of the gravel when it shut.

"This train, specifically." said Hermione, standing by a box car a few rails over.

They all followed her. Draco gave the train a cursory inspection. It had a diesel engine and about twenty box cars. It looked exactly as unremarkable as the ten other trains in the yard.

"How do you know?" he asked. It was always a pain asking Hermione how she knew something. After she explained it, it seemed so obvious.

"Look at the tracks." she said. He did. Yep, those were tracks.

"The pebble." she said, pointing at a small stone that was sandwiched between the rail and one of the wheels of the box car. Yep, that was a pebble.

"Boxcars weigh thirty tons empty." she explained. "That pebble should be dust."

"This boxcar is way lighter than it should be." followed Harry.

"Mother." said Marcus. "She had to enchant the Silvana to make it lighter before she could get it to fly."

"The train flies?" asked Ron.

"They probably just made the cars lighter so they wouldn't have to use as much fuel to pull them." said Hermione. "Those greedy, eco-friendly bastards."

There was a cascading clacking sound as the couplings between all the cars became taught. The boxcar they had been examining started to move away.

"It's leaving. What do we do?" said Hermione.

"That's a relief." said Marcus pulling himself onto the end of a passing box car. "I thought we'd have to wait all day for it to take us to the next clue."

"We can't just get on a strange magic train." said Hermione. They had all started to jogging to keep up.

"It's either this or we wait for the Dementors to find us again." said Marcus.

"Help me up." said Hermione, reaching out for him. He pulled her up. Then they both pulled up Harry and Ron. Harry got a grip on the box car and reached down to pull Draco up. Draco took a firm grip on Harry's hand and jumped off the ground. He was pulled up to the boxcar and hung on to the side for dear life. They were standing in the gap between two of the cars, so the wind was minimal. Draco grabbed a hand hold and looked around at his comrades. They were all standing on whatever perch they could find and holding on tight to various edges. The tracks were running below them in a blur.

"Where is this train headed?" yelled Harry over the roar of the train.

"We're headed Northwest." yelled Ron, consulting the position of the Sun.

"What's Northwest of here?" asked Harry.

"Eventually," answered Marcus, "London."


	41. Back in London

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 12: Back in London**

_"Actions always have consequences__.__"_

* * *

><p>Draco's hand were getting tired from holding on to the boxcar. He would have given up hours ago if the alternative wasn't a horrible death under the train wheels. They had left the country side and were passing between factories in the industrial complex of the city. They were tucking themselves closer to the walls so they wouldn't be noticed by curious train spotters.<p>

Marcus peeked his head around the side of the boxcar.

"The train is pulling into a compound!" he yelled over the roar of the engine.

Draco peeked around his side of the boxcar. The cars ahead of them were pulling through a gap in a forbidding concrete wall that would look quite at home surrounding a prison.

"Do we follow it in?" asked Draco.

"Hell, no." said Marcus. "Everybody off." and he jumped down onto the ground and hit the ground rolling.

"Um," said Hermione, "that's look like it hurts..."

"Get off the train!" yelled Marcus. "We are not going into a strange compounds!"

Draco jumped off and attempted to land lightly on the ground. He went rolling. A second later Hermione landed on top of him.

"Thanks, Draco." she said, getting up.

"Go die in a fire." he grunted.

Draco struggled to his feet and brushed himself off. His eye followed the last car as it went into the compound. A heavy pair of heavy iron gates slammed shut behind the caboose.

"Well, that was a waste of time." said Ron. "We went all the way over and under Britain and have nothing to show for it."

"Not strictly true." said Hermione. "We know where a series of underground tunnels are, and we know where the magic train leads. These are solid leads we can hand over to the authorities."

"And _they _can deal with the big scary compound and stone gorillas." said Draco.

"I'll call Mrs. Weasley," said Marcus, pulling out his console, "and tell her where we are. She can pull the Silvana around."

"Do we have to go back?" said Ron. "I was hoping to not get killed today."

"She's not going to kill you." said Marcus. "She's going to scream at you like a menstruating banshee, but never kill."

"And what about your mother?" asked Ron. "You can't tell me she won't be mad that you ran away."

An angry wailing sound started coming out of Marcus's console.

"I think we may have passed 'mad' a week ago." said Marcus, holding the console as far away as possible.

~o!o~

Draco and the others were standing on one of the roofs of a nearby factory. Above them, the black hull of the Silvana was gliding down. When it was close enough to reach out and touch a ladder dropped down from the deck.

Draco could have just jumped on deck, but he wanted to put as much time as possible between him and whatever was on the other end of the ladder.

When he finally came over the guard rail he was looking into the angry face of Molly Weasley.

"Mrs. Weasley." he greeted with a nod.

She kept glaring.

"Have you lost weight?" he tried for flattery.

"Your mother and I," she said, in even tones, "have been consuming more chocolate than is strictly necessary because our children were missing."

"Hi, Mum." said Ron, coming over the side.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice steadily going into a higher pitch. "You look like you've been rolling in a slag heap!"

Draco looked at his friends. Marcus's normally pale face was now black face. Hermione's hair was ebony with soot. Not a single one of Ron's freckles was visible through the layer of grime he was wearing.

"We were in Dover." said Hermione.

"And under Dover." said Harry.

"And rode a train back." said Draco. "The really cheap seats."

"You are all going to bathe." Molly said. "and you," she pointed at Marcus, who backed into the railing, "your mother wants to speak to you."

Ron and Hermione grabbed him before he could jump off the side.

"She wants to speak to all of you!" Molly finished.

Draco wondered to himself how far down it was.

~o!o~

Draco nervously toweled his damp hair while Cynthia glared at him. They were in the conference room of the Silvana. A wall sized screen was showing a live video feed of Cynthia and Dumbledore, who were at the Ministry.

"Ignoring the fact that you blew the roof off my building," started Cynthia, "you all could have been in a mass grave for all I knew. I am having GPS trackers attached to your back teeth."

"The fact that you were personally tracking down dark wizards is also deeply disappointing." said Dumbledore. "We would hope by now you know to tell an adult if you suspect someone of soul stealing."

"We're sorry." said Ron.

"I'm not." said Hermione. "I was bored."

"You are not allowed to date any of my sons." said Cynthia.

"Hey!" said Harry. Ron grinned.

"But we discovered a plot to create a Golem army." said Draco. "That should count for something."

"There's no Golem Army you nitwits!" said Cynthia.

"What?" said Hermione. "But we saw-"

"A Golem Army would be totally useless to both sides." said Cynthia. "An army of immortals obliterating the landscape would not only ruin the game, it would flip the board and we'd loose all the pieces down the back of the sofa. The forces of evil want a functioning economy, agriculture, and municipal infrastructure the same as we do. They don't want to have to rebuild a postal system after they raze London to scorched earth."

"But we saw..." tried Hermione.

"Golems have industrial applications." said Cynthia. "They don't need food or sleep. A hundred orphans in a Chinese sweatshop can't compete with a handful of Golems."

"That's totally barbaric." said Hermione.

"That's economics." said Cynthia. "Add the fact that they don't need breathable air and you've got the perfect mining operation."

"That was a mine under Dover?" asked Hermione.

"The cost of the raw materials was the greatest obstacles to the enemy being able to produce Superconductor Wands." said Cynthia. "Voldemort would drink molten lead before he bought them from a muggle mine. The really troubling thing is that was just the mine you found."

"You think there could be more than one?" asked Ron.

"The only place in the world you can find the spell to make a Golem is the Tephnut Library of Egypt." said Cynthia. "You need serious pull with their Ministry before you can get into their restricted section."

"You think there are wizards in Egypt are making Golems and they shared the recipe with Voldemort?" said Draco.

"More or less." said Cynthia. "Which makes me wonder who else they've been swapping recipes with."

"So we won't be attacked by immortal spiky gorillas?" asked Ron, hopefully.

"Oh, they're definitely going to use them to attack us." said Cynthia. "I'm just saying that's not why-"

There was a sound like an explosion in the background. The image on the screen jumped and went to black.

"Mother?" said Marcus, jumping towards the screen. "Mother? Are you still there?"

After getting no response, he ran out of the room. Draco followed him. He ran up several more stair cases until they came to a door that read 'Positively No Admittance-This Means You Marcus!'

"It's locked." said Molly coming up behind them. "I'm worried about them, too, but we can't just-" she was interrupted by Marcus blasting the wall apart.

He stepped through the newly made door into the bridge of the Silvana. He spun the wheel and the whole ship pitched. Draco slid down the floor onto the wall. Molly landed on top of him.

"Marcus!" she yelled. "We are not going to the Ministry! It's too dangerous."

"Your husband is there." said Marcus, holding on to the helm. "And Percy."

"What are you waiting for?" asked Molly. "This thing does 1000 K! Floor it!"


	42. Department of Mysteries

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 13: Department of Mysteries**

_"Government without consent of the governed is slavery__.__"_

* * *

><p>The Fifth House tumbled out of one of the fireplaces in the ministry atrium. For the third time in so many hours, Draco found himself being someone else's impact cushion as Marcus landed heavily on his rib cage.<p>

All around him, he heard wild screaming and the bang and sizzle of curses flying around. Draco looked up to see the atrium had a giant hole in the floor where the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been on his last visit. Golems of various sizes and sharpness were crawling up out of the floor. Some of them were battling security wizards who were throwing ineffectual curses. Some of them were climbing up the walls and breaking into office windows.

Draco judged the number of broken windows and estimated there must have been Golems on every floor.

They crouched low to minimize themselves as targets and made their way around the wall of the atrium towards the lifts. Draco was keeping an eye on the Golems that were swarming on the walls. He jumped back as one of the bigger ones charged through the section of wall in front of which he'd just been standing.

They hastened to the elevator bank and ducked into an alcove.

"What are the chances a lift is working?" asked Hermione.

"Zero." said Ron. "Dad always says they don't work half the time on good days."

"We'll take the stairs." said Draco. "Please, tell me they're nearby."

"They should be just through this wall." said Ron. He pointed to the solid marble wall across from them.

"On the count of three?" said Draco.

"Three!" Harry shouted.

"_Bombarda_!" they all incanted, and the wall was obliterated in a puff of chalk.

The dust started to part and they saw a staircase. They used the dust cover to dash across the hall and into the stairwell. Draco started going down the stairs in fives. They were headed down to the bowels of the Ministry, where the court convened. Cynthia would be down there. If they were all together, they could make a stand.

They emerged from the staircase into the black tiled corridors that led to the courtrooms. The entire lower level was surprisingly empty. Marcus ran ahead of them. His mother being in peril had lead to some very un-Slytherin-like behavior.

Draco dashed after him and they turned into the courtroom they had first watched Cynthia appear before the Wizengamot.

It was empty. There wasn't so much as a folder left behind.

"She must have left." said Hermione, walking in behind him.

"She wouldn't have left without Dumbledore." said Marcus. "He's too much of an asset to the cause."

"And they're friends." put in Hermione.

"Yeah, that." said Marcus. "And Dumbledore wouldn't have left if there were people in danger. Ipso Facto: they are both still here."

"Well, they're not in this room..." said Hermione, walking back out of the empty chamber. She stopped suddenly and pushed them all back inside.

"Wha-?" Draco started, but Hermione covered his mouth, accidentally getting her ring finger inside his mouth. Draco tasted hand soap.

She whipped out her hand mirror and used it to see around the corner. Draco could make out a line of black robbed figures wearing grotesque masks. It looked like they were headed this way, so Draco pulled out his wand. They turned the corner before the courtroom and disappeared.

"What's down that way?" Hermione asked.

"No idea." said Ron. "Dad says the Unspeakables work down here."

"What do they do?" asked Hermione.

"He doesn't say." answered Ron.

They all tiptoed out of the courtroom. They made their way to the hallway the Death Eaters had walked down. Hermione checked around the corner with her pocket mirror again. There was a lone wizard standing at the end of the hall, his wand drawn and ready.

Hermione leveled her wand at the mirror and muttered "_stupefy_".

The spell reflected off the mirror and went down the hall and sent the Death Eater to dream land.

"Since when can you do that?" asked Ron as they pulled the Death Eaters unconscious corpse away from the door.

"Once you've managed putting on your makeup on a crowded bus, using the pocket mirror to reflect curses is the easy part." said Hermione.

Draco put his hand on the door and looked to the others to make sure they had their wands ready. He took a deep breath and forced the door open.

"All right, Freeze!" he yelled to the empty room. He looked around, embarrassed. It was a circular room with doors around the entire perimeter.

"Which one do you think they went through?" Ron asked. As he passed through the door, it slammed behind him. They all spun around at the bang. Draco got the shock of his life when the door started moving. All the doors were moving, in fact. Either he was spinning around or the room was spinning and he was standing still, which made even less sense.

They all stopped abruptly. One was indistinguishable from the other. There was no way to tell which one they had just come through.

"Oh, swell." said Ron. "It's the lobby designed by Marvin C. Mindfuck."

"Which one do we pick?" asked Harry.

"Any of them." said Hermione. "We might get lucky."

Draco reached out to a door and gave the handle a pull. It didn't budge. He reached the next one and it came open easily. He felt a falling sensation and he was pulled inside. He expected to land on something, but he never felt the ground. He felt like he was floating. Or falling. Or both.

There was a bright light coming from the center of the room. He put his hand up to shield himself from the brightness. There were large spheres floating around the room. One was red. Another was marbled brown with a red spot. One was blue. Another had rings.

"What the sod is this?" asked Ron, who was swimming through the air.

"I think it's a model of our solar system." said Harry. "Like the one Professor Sinistra had us build."

"Imagine if we'd turned in this one." said Ron. "We'd have so much extra credit, it would spill over into Transfiguration."

"I can see a door." said Marcus, butterfly stroking past. "Over there. In the constellation Ophiuchus."

They all swam over and Marcus kicked the door open. Again they were all pulled through. This time they landed on the floor. Draco landed under Hermione.

"Why?" he grunted, as she pulled herself up.

This room had a giant aquarium taking up the center. It had a fine layer of colored gravel on the bottom. There were some fake kelp planted here and there. One creative individual had put a scuba diver toy in one corner. And it was full of brains. Brains with tentacles were swimming through the aquarium like octopus.

"What _is _this?" asked Harry in disgust.

"A think tank." said Hermione.

"Oh." they all said, walking over to the next door.

Draco braced himself as Harry pulled this door open, but it did not pull them through. They stepped through into what looked like a small stadium. They walked down the steps to the center of the chamber where a huge stone archway stood. It had a veil hanging across it, swaying gently, though there was no breeze.

"Now, what's this?" asked Harry.

"If I had to guess," said Ron, "the gate to the lost city of R'lyeh."

"Let's go." said Draco. "This room is giving me the creeps. I think it's whispering."

"Oh, good." said Harry. "I thought it was just me."

They walked up the bleachers to the opposite side of the stadium. Ron reached out to push the door open.

"What freaky thing will we find in here." he said to no one in particular.

He pushed the door open and they walked in. This room had ceiling high shelves full of what looked like smoky snow globes. In the isle closest to them were a dozen Death Eaters surrounding Lord Voldemort.

Both sides were struck dumb out of shock. They just stared at each other uncomprehendingly.

Marcus was the one to break the silence.

"Oh, thank God." he said. "You _are _alive."

"Pardon?" said Voldemort, his nonexistent eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Well, none of us had actually seen you." he said. "I was afraid... maybe... this whole time... Umbridge was _right_."

"Oh, no." said one Death Eater.

"Never." agreed another.

"No fear of that." said another.

"...a complete _cow_." said another.

"Well that's a relief." he said. "We'll just _go_."

At the word go several things happened very fast. The smoky orb that Voldemort had been holding flew out of his grasp and into Hermione's hand. Ron waved his wand and the two shelves they were standing between and began falling inward, dumping their payload of tchotchkes onto the Death Eaters. They all dashed back into the Room with the Veil, and Harry used a Permanent Sealing Charm on the door.

"Run away!" yelled Hermione, jumping down the stairs. "That won't hold them at all."

"Where do we run?" yelled Draco. This had seemed like a much better idea half an hour ago.

"We could try our luck through the veil." said Marcus. "What is that anyway?"

"No idea." said Hermione holding up the smoky orb.

They didn't get to ponder it's purpose for very long, because as soon they started back up the opposite side of the stadium, the wall busted open and the Death Eaters came pouring out. Voldemort was leading the charge.

They all started climbing up the stone stairs backwards, dueling with the swiftly approaching Death Eaters. Draco only blocked or dodged their curses. It was easier to do with them so far away. He didn't bother trying to return fire. The huge Death Eater at the front of the pack looked like he could withstand a charging Graphorn.

Voldemort was throwing curses that were gouging out craters in the stonework.

Draco finally felt the wall behind him Hermione grabbed his collar and pulled him through the door. Since he didn't have to turn around to navigate he could focus on the encroaching Death Eaters. Just before the door closed, Draco cast an icing charm on the steps. Two of the Death Eaters wiped out on the way up.

They were back in the Think Tank. Hermione and Harry were welding the door into place.

"This should hold them off for at least a minute." said Hermione.

"Return the prophecy and I will spare you!" they heard the muffled yell through the wall.

"Is that what this is?" said Hermione, holding up the orb. "All this for a glorified fortune cookie?"

She wound up and threw it in the tank. Draco watched it fall past the brains and into the pebbles below. If you didn't know where it landed you would never see it.

"Nice work." said Harry. "We could have used it to barter for our lives, but it's pretty there, too."

They all dashed across the room to the next door. Ron flung it open and the Planet room sucked them in. They heard the wall behind them bust open. Draco turned to fire a blasting Hex at Voldemort, but all it managed to do was shoot him faster through the zero gravity of the planet room.

Voldemort and four Death Eaters flew into the Planet room and began firing curses. The effect was almost comical. The curses stayed in place and the casters were flung backwards.

"Get to a planet!" shouted Marcus, grabbing onto Mars. He braced himself against the red planet and started firing off hexes.

Draco hid behind Jupiter. He was locked in combat with a huge Death Eater in the Rings of Saturn. Jupiter's orbit was pulling them closer together. The curses were coming closer and faster.

Draco could see Harry and Voldemort out of the corner of his eye, battling over planet Earth. The spells coming out of their wands were doing something strange, almost like they were connected by a red lighting bolt.

"We're going to die!" shouted a panicked Ron. "I'm going to die cowering behind Uranus!"

There was a lapse in the Death Eater's assault. Draco heard a tittering sound. The Death Eater recovered and fired another hex. The spell hit Jupiter's moon of Ganymede out of orbit and crashing into Europa. An idea crashed into Draco's head.

"Marcus!" he yelled. "Ron! Fast Ball Special!"

Marcus pushed away from Mars and cast a shield around his body. Marcus had a gift for shields. This one was a glittering sphere that could hold him standing up straight. Ron used a Levitation charm on him. In Zero Gravity this only meant he could control where Marcus was drifting. Ron whipped his arm like he was throwing a fast ball and Marcus in shield went zooming across the universe.

He bounced off Pluto. Pluto came off its orbit and crashed into Neptune. Neptune and the Death Eater attached to it went smashing into Saturn. The planets and Marcus were bouncing all around the Solar System, like rocket powered billiards.

Jupiter had come off its axis and was rolling towards the door. Draco jumped into the door. He propped the door open before it could slam itself. He looked around the pinball planets for his friends. Hermione was swimming through space to get to where Voldemort and Harry were still dueling. Draco flicked his wand and Hermione sailed backward to the door. This time, Draco side stepped her before she could land on him.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked. "He's going to be killed. Omph!" Her tirade was cut short when Ron landed on her.

"Don't worry about him." Draco said, summoning over a dizzy Marcus. He'd been spinning all around space and that was never good for your inner ear. He stumbled around the room for a while and finally keeled over.

"Let me back in!" yelled Hermione, trying to break back into the Planet Room.

"Just watch!" said Draco, holding her back.

In that moment, Jupiter collided with Harry and interrupted his duel with the most dangerous dark wizard in history. He was carried with the speeding planet like a June bug in a radiator grill.

"Back!" shouted Draco as he pushed Hermione further into the room. Jupiter collided with the door, jamming itself into the frame and depositing Harry inside.

"Someone get the number of that Gas Giant." he said blearily.

Hermione swooped down and kissed him. Very passionately. Very.

"Is this really the time?" asked Draco.

"We're in the wrong room." said Ron, picking up the still dizzy Marcus.

Draco looked around. This wasn't one of the rooms they had come through. They should be in the spinning room with the nondescript doors. This room was bright and long with a long table running down the center. The walls were covered in clocks.

"Where are we?" asked Draco.

"Never mind that." said Marcus, squeezing his eyes shut. "How do we get out?"

The doors around the room burst open. The other Death Eaters must have taken alternate routes. They were completely surrounded.

"Give us the Prophecy!" one of them shouted menacingly.

"Never!" yelled Harry. "We'll die first."

"We don't have it." said Hermione, putting herself between Harry and harm.

"You'll never take us alive!" shouted Ron.

"It's a few rooms back." said Marcus, fighting to stand up.

"All of you shut up!" the Death Eater shouted. "I'm going to torture you all to the edge of insanity if you don't-"

The back wall exploded. The Death Eaters didn't have time to react before a polar bear jumped out of the dust cloud and flattened them under-claw.

This proved it, thought Draco. I'm dreaming. I'm going to wake up and I will be in Danny's cottage in Dover. There will be no pinball planets, no Death Eaters, and no polar bears.

But after pinching himself several times, the polar bear was still there. And Albus Dumbledore was riding on it's back, casting curses at the Death Eaters his steed wasn't eviscerating.

Before the dust from the wall even dissipated all the death eaters that weren't trampled were tied onto the walls with various curses. The one nearest to Draco had tentacles growing out of his nose that were hog tying him.

Dumbledore and polar bear bounded back over to them. Dumbledore jumped down to the ground. The polar bear started to shrink. The fur retracted back into its body. The snout went back into its head. What used to be a polar was now the more terrifying figure of Cynthia Montefiore.

"Marcus Snuggles Montefiore!" she thundered.

One of the bleeding Death Eaters at their feet tittered. "Snuggles?" he said.

Marcus's dizziness vanished. He hauled the two hundred pound Death Eater up by his collar and stuck his wand up the man's nostril.

"Yeah my name is Snuggles!" he roared. "You wanna make something of it?"

"N-n-no." stuttered the Death Eater.

Marcus dropped him.

"I'm not entirely clear on what you were thinking." said Cynthia grabbing Marcus and Draco and pulling them out of the room. "But we have plenty of time to talk about it while your cleaning the Silvana with toothbrushes."

Draco felt a twisting sensation. Then everything went dark and he felt like he was being squeezed from all directions. The next thing he saw, he was in the atrium of the Ministry. The Golems were still running amok and climbing through the walls. The wizards fighting back weren't making any headway.

They must have Apparated up here to finish the battle.

"What do we do?" asked Draco. A cracking sound told him that Dumbledore had brought up the others. He couldn't help smiling. After all their searching they had finally come to the fight at the end of the rainbow.

"You," said Cynthia glowering down at him, "are not going to do anything. Diego is going to handle this."

"On his own?" said Hermione.

"He'll have help." Cynthia said, looking up to the ceiling far above. There was a cracking sound and they could see hunks of rock falling down. "That'll be him."

They all stepped back. After a few seconds of free fall, Diego landed on the ground with a large metal container. It was covered in iron and rivets, like whoever had packaged it was terrified that whatever was inside would someday get out.

Diego leaped off and the pod opened like a metallic flower. There was a man crouched inside. Draco looked closer and saw that his head was bald and featureless. There was no face or ears, just perfectly smooth pale skin.

The...man...stood up. He was wearing a black suit and tie that was unnaturally smooth. When he stood up, he just kept getting taller. It's arms and legs kept extending until he was taller than a telephone pole. He stretched out his arms; arms that had way too many elbows. His hands grasped two of the Golems. The fingers, the fingers were worse than the arms. Draco felt a cold chill creeping into his body. Hope seemed like a distant memory. The two Golems the man was holding thrashed and stopped moving altogether. The red eyes faded to black. He dropped them and reached for some others.

"What is that?" asked Hermione in a small voice. Draco hadn't noticed but they were both holding on tightly to Cynthia. Cynthia gathered them up in a hug.

"It's a Dementor." she said. "I won't let it hurt you."

"What kind of Dementor?" asked Hermione.

"Mine." said Cynthia. "I bought one from the Ministry. I took it on a tour of the world's maximum security prisons and fed it the nastiest souls I could find."

"Why?" asked Hermione in a voice that was barely a squeak.

"I wanted to see what would happen." said Cynthia. "I named it Slenderman. The human souls attached to those Golems is the only thing keeping them moving. The Dementor devours their souls and they're useless. He'll eat them like popcorn."

Hermione started sobbing openly. Harry pulled her into his chest.

"Sorry, dear one." said Cynthia, sounding genuinely contrite. "I didn't mean to be insensitive."

It was all over in minutes. The Golems were laying around like demonic mannequins. Draco couldn't think what was more depressing: a mutilated human soul stuck in a statue or being eaten by the Slenderman.

Diego waved his wand in a complicated pattern and the Slenderman was sucked back into the canister, which snapped shut like a bear trap. Against the deepest desires of his heart, they all walked over to it.

Diego ran over and picked up Marcus in a hug. He then picked up Harry and Draco without putting any of them down. Draco was crushed by his big brother's strong embrace, it was the greatest feeling he could ask for. In spite of all the carnage around them, he felt so safe.

"Good work." said a drawling voice behind them.

Draco looked behind Diego to see his father and mother standing by one of the fire places.

"Thank you, Lucius." said Dumbledore smiling. "All in a days work. Fudge may now reconsider the threat of Dark Wizards now that the Ministry has been attacked."

"Funny you should mention that." said Lucius. "You see, I was just informed that the Minister died bravely defending the Ministry from Golems."

"That's a lie." said Cynthia.

"Yes, it's a lie." confessed Lucius. "He died cowering behind his liquor cabinet. Fortunately, there will be a continuity in governance." he took a step forward and swept his cape with a flourish. "I have just been named the new Minister for Magic."

"Balls to that!" yelled Ron. "Who decided to put you in charge?"

There was a series of cracking sounds behind them. Draco turned around to see Voldemort surrounded by his Death Eaters.

"I decided." said Voldemort stepping forward. "Lucius has the kind of leadership and values needed to restore the standards of wizarding Britain."

"By that I assume you mean a caste system and rampant hate crimes." said Cynthia. "Hello, Bells."

"Hello, Cycy." said Bellatrix Lestrange. "How's Raleigh?"

"He's fine." said Cynthia. "Plays his rock music too loud, though."

There was the sound of footfalls from one of the offices above them. Draco looked up in time to see Percy, Arthur, Kingsley, and Tonks drop down from the Golem-made hole three floors up.

They landed between Cynthia and Voldemort's posse and took defensive stances.

"Cynthia." said Arthur, through his teeth. "Get my children out of here."

"I'm staying." said Percy, leveling his wand at Voldemort.

"No one needs to fight." said Voldemort in placating tones. "We are willing to put aside old difference and welcome you into the new world we are making. Excepting the Mudbloods, of course."

"You're all heart, your Dark Lordship." said Cynthia.

"Draco." said Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco turned around. His mother and stepped closer.

"Draco." she said, imploringly. "You can come home now. All is forgiven."

"Yes, Draco." said Voldemort. "What's past is past. We are all on the same side now. There are no other sides to speak of."

"Come here, Draco." said his father more forcefully, a pleading look on his face.

Draco shifted in place. His foot knocked against something. He looked down to see a short Golem with shovel-like hands. It had a patch of terracotta cement on it's head. His console gave a faint 'ping'.

His father tried again. "Draco-"

"Go die in a fire." Draco cut him off.

"Very well," said Voldemort. "If you are all resolved to die together."

"We may very well die here." said Cynthia pushing in front of Kingsley. "This may very well be our last stand. But I have one last thing to say!"

"I'm sure we'd all be thrilled to hear it." said Voldemort, advancing slowly. Draco noticed his wand had a metallic sheen with a characteristic candy cane spiral. In any other situation he'd find it funny that a man who hates muggles was using a wand made by their scientific discoveries. "What are your last words?"

"Just one." said Cynthia. "_Terronarossa_!" she yelled. The ground they were standing on shot up in the air. Draco felt like he was on an elevator that was going up too fast. Air was whipping through his hair. The windows of the Ministry offices were flying past them. The ceiling was approaching fast. The hole Diego had made earlier wouldn't be big enough for all of them.

Everyone else must have had the same idea because everyone, the same time as he did, raised their wands and cried _'bombarda!'._

They flew through the crowd of dust and rubble and came out into sunlight. One of the buildings they shot past was a dead ringer for № 10 Downing St. The hunk of stone they were on stopped suddenly.

Draco was picked up suddenly and was flying through the air again. He landed on the Silvana's deck. Diego put down Draco and Marcus. Cynthia landed a second later carrying Harry and Hermione. Draco looked across the city and saw the others standing on a huge column of stone that was jutting out of the city below. He saw Dumbledore, Ron and the others still standing on top of the column. They all disappeared and Apparated next to him with a 'crack'.

Molly came running out of the ship.

"Thank God you're all safe." she said gathering Ron, Percy, and Arthur up in a hug.

"No one is safe." said Cynthia running inside. "Set sail for Hogwarts!"


	43. Save What You Can

**Book 4: Draco Malfoy and The Golem Army**

**Chapter 14: Save What You Can**

_"The chaos around us makes it hard to hear, but the human voice is different from other sounds__. It can be heard over the sounds that drown out everything else. Even when it's not shouting. Even if it's just a whisper. The smallest whisper can be heard over whole armies when it is telling the truth.__"_

* * *

><p>Draco handed out a sandwich to Natalie McDonald. It was the last one he had. They had to clear out the kitchen to feed all these people. He made his way out of the crowded lounge of the Silvana. There were children of every age and every house crowding the room. When he stepped out of the room, the corridor was just as crowded. The ship was chockablock full of people.<p>

After they had escaped the Ministry, they made a beeline for № 30 St. Mary Axe. Dumbledore had taken over immediately, with very little protest noticed from Umbridge. After a punctuated explanation of how the Government had fallen, he instructed the heads of house to load all the muggle born students onto the Silvana.

Quite a few other students had decided to come, too. They saw joining Dumbledore on the Silvana as an active rebellion against Voldemort and the forces of evil. The entire Gryffindor house was on board. The teachers had all put in their lot with Dumbledore and boarded the ship.

He passed Professor Sprout comforting two of her students. A little farther on, Colin Creevy was holding on tightly to his brother, Dennis. He went by the conference room, where Professor Flitwick had charmed some cupcakes to dance for some of the first years. They were laughing. Draco had a feeling laughter was going to be in short supply in the future. Professor Snape was trying to bring a fainted Grace Augustine back around. Fred and George nodded at him as he passed by and went back to conversing with Angelina Johnson and Cedric Diggory. Something about bombing the Ministry with rabid doxies.

He walked through one of the dining rooms. Tonks, Arthur, and Kingsley were all gathered around a magic wireless. He could hear his father speaking in his capacity as Minister for Magic.

"I am proud to announce," Minister Malfoy said, "this day marks the birth of a new Ministry and a new Britain. We will form a society where wizards to not have to cower, ashamed, in the dark places. We will step into the light. The world will know of us and the muggles will install us in our rightful place: as the true rulers of planet Earth! My first initiative will be the formation of an office that will control the muggles use of..."

The voice die away as he hurried on. He passed Joan Rauling, who was sitting at the far end of the table. She was staring intently at a picture of her and Miles. Draco had begged Cynthia to pick her up after they left № 30 St. Mary Axe. He had to honor his promise to Miles.

He stepped out onto the deck. This was the only part of the ship that wasn't crowded. Cynthia was standing on the prow with her sons, as well as Ron and Hermione. Diego was holding Raleigh in his arms, clutching him securely, like he might disappear. He would lean down occasionally to kiss his head.

"Hello, Draco." said Cynthia, reaching over and putting an arm around his shoulders. "Everything in hand?"

"Situation normal." he said. "All fouled up."

"That's good." she said. "Things could be easy. That would be so boring."

They all chuckled sadly. From somewhere down below, he heard a muffled scream. Draco looked over the railing and saw a bound and gagged Umbridge hanging off the side of the ship. She was struggling against her bonds. He didn't know what she thought she'd do if she got loose. Fall, probably. They hadn't planned to bring her. The Twins had just tied her to the ship while Dumbledore wasn't looking. By the time he noticed, there was no time to turn back.

"Where should we drop her off?" he asked.

"Anywhere is fine." said Hermione. "Just as long as we stay high up. I still can't believe you're an unregistered Animagus."

"I'm not unregistered." said Cynthia, affronted. "I'm registered, just not in Britain."

They looked over the city of London. The streetlights made a glittering web in the darkness.

"It's funny." said Hermione. "Everything's different, but it all looks the same."

"Well, it's all different now." said Cynthia. "Don't let all this peace fool you, we're at war now. We are all going to have to find strength we didn't know we had. It's a long fight on an uphill slope. The fate of our species hangs in the balance. No pressure."

"It sounds fun." said Raleigh.

Diego clutched him tighter.

"You will not be fighting Raleigh." said Cynthia. "None of you have to fight." she said to the children. "I can find some island somewhere and hide you on it. I'll give you a monkey butler."

"I'm not sitting this one out." said Harry.

"I cannot stress enough how dangerous this is." she said, unable to keep a note of pride out of her voice.

"We're not scared." said Draco. "We have you, mom."

Cynthia's arm squeezed him tighter. It was hard to tell in the dark of night, but she might have been tearing up.

"Snuggles?" said Hermione, ruining the moment. Ron, Harry and Draco all snorted with laughter.

"Mother gave us embarrassing middle names," said Diego, "as punishment for all future sins. Personally, I just think she's the wrong color of crazy"

"What's your middle name?" asked Draco.

Diego fidgeted. "Daffodil." he said finally.

They all burst out laughing, except Marcus, who put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"So what's Raleigh's?" asked Hermione laughter still in her voice.

"Bunny." said Raleigh.

The laughter renewed. They kept their spirits up a little while longer.

~o!o~

"This is not good." said Sirius.

"This is way bad." said Thomas.

They were standing at the edge of a huge chasm that had appeared very suddenly in the French country side. It was the dead of night, but they could still make out a huge canyon in the moonlight. Along the rock walls, little red lights moved around, busily. Hundreds of pairs of glowing red eyes. They were watching from behind a shrubbery Thomas had conjured up.

"How many more of these do you think there are?" asked Sirius.

"Three." said Thomas.

"Oh." said Sirius.

"Hundred." said Thomas.

"Oh." said Sirius.

"In Europe." said Thomas.

"Oh." said Sirius. "What is it for?"

"It can't be good." said Thomas. "Especially if those two are here." he pointed to a platform hovering over the canyon. A dark skinned woman in a red dress was standing next to a tall man with dark hair and a very suspicious goatee.

"Cervantes and Blanchard." snarled Sirius. "You-Know-Who's go-to guys."

"Whatever he's working on," said Thomas, "it's big."

He looked over to a huge pile of iron ore that was forming next to the canyon.

"And it's happening in multiple countries." said Sirius.

"For all we know," added Thomas, "it could be happening in every country."

Sirius took a deep sigh.

"Somehow, I don't think we can pin this on Cynthia." he said.

"It's infuriating." said Thomas. "Just as I think I'm onto her, I still have no idea what's going on!"

* * *

><p>End Book 4<p> 


	44. Wizarding War Two

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

The Ministry has fallen. Voldemort reigns over Britain. The Guild is dissolved. The Dark Wizards of the world are overthrowing their respective Governments. The Muggles of the world are ignorant of the unseen threat that endangers their lives. A few brave souls make one last stand. This war is for everyone: from the most battle hardened wizards to the youngest students.

Through it all, The Fifth House stands strong.

Win or loose; It all ends here.

**Chapter 1: Wizarding War Two**

_"The fate of the world will be decided by those who did more than they had to do."_

* * *

><p>The year was 1995 and the world was at war.<p>

The battles were never seen. The armies were unknown. The combatants were invisible. The bodies were never found.

The wizards of planet Earth were divided. The muggle-borns and the wizards who dreamed of freedom were pitted against Lord Voldemort and the other Dark Wizards who demanded tyranny. The Dark Wizards were exterminating the muggle-borns and anyone who aided them. People were assaulted in the streets, hunted down in the wilderness, and murdered in their beds. The magnitude of the death toll was unknown to everyone but the ferryman, himself.

One dark night, the body count was about to go three higher.

~o!o~

A woman ran down the street in the Whitechapel district of London trying to navigate through the darkness. A little girl was in her arms, her eyes were wide in terror. There was blood cascading down her legs from a wound on her back. A boy was running behind them. He was dashing to keep up with the woman. Sweat had plastered his curly brown hair to his scalp. His nose was bleeding heavily.

The boy chanced a look over his shoulder. They were still being pursued. Two mottled creatures in long gray cloaks were floating behind them and gaining fast.

"They're right behind us!" he yelled.

The woman quickly looked behind her.

"Where?" she asked frantically.

"Right behind us!" he repeated. She looked again.

"I don't see anyone." she gasped, and kept running.

"Do you _feel _them?" he said, frustrated.

She had no idea what he was talking about, but then she did feel it; cold dread corkscrewing down her spine and freezing her skin. Suddenly, her head this something and she fell back onto the boy.

"What is that!" she screeched in panic. She felt around in front of her and her hands groped cold masonry. In the dark of the night they had run straight into a dead end.

She and the boy pressed their backs to the wall. She looked around for the people who had attacked them. She saw nothing, but the boy saw the two cloaked figures talking closer, taking deep, rattling breaths. In desperation, he pulled out a wand from his back pocket and pointed at them.

Against all his expectations, the Dementors were flung backwards, screeching in pain. They were driven so far back, they could no longer be seen.

"You see that, right?" the woman asked. The boy followed her gaze to the pavement in front of them. There was a tortoise sitting on the pavement. A shiny silver tortoise. It had a defiant stance.

"Well, look at that." said a gruff voice from down the street.

They both looked up to see two men in long dark robes striding towards them. They were both holding their wands casually at their sides.

"Conjuring a patronus is pretty tricky." said one of them.

"Impressive for a mudblood." said the other. "Let's see if it can duel."

"To the death." said the other with malice.

They both slowly raised their wands and leveled them at the three helpless people. The boy prepared to fire whatever spells he knew. He flicked his wand and the bricks in the neighboring buildings flew out of the walls and stoned the two wizards. They were knocked out in seconds and partially buried in masonry.

"Good work." said the woman, shocked.

"I don't think that was me." said the boy.

"No," said a voice, "it was me."

The pavement in front of them parted and a figure rose out of it like he was on an elevator platform. It was a young man. He couldn't have been more than sixteen. He was wearing all black, full length clothing. He had short black hair and was very pale.

He walked away from them to the two felled wizards. He reached around in the rubble and pulled out their wands.

"Superconductors." he said to himself, fitting the wands into his inner jacket pocket.

He turned back to the three people at the dead end.

"Don't be frightened." he said. "My name is Marcus. I'm with Dumbledore."

The boy relaxed.

"I can take you somewhere safe." he said. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Yes." said the boy dashing forward. The woman stayed back, clutching the girl to her.

Marcus noticed the blood.

"We have medics." he said. "We can help her."

The woman still didn't move. The time for being gentle was over.

"If you don't come, then the girl will bleed to death." he said sternly. "And they," he thumbed the two felled wizards, "or someone like them will be back."

The woman finally stepped forward. Marcus pulled a pocket lexicon out of his jacket.

"We all have to touch this at the same time." he instructed them.

The boy and the woman both reached out and grabbed the lexicon. Marcus grabbed the little girls hand and pushed it down on the cover. Marcus felt an unpleasant tugging sensation behind his navel. The pavement under his feet vanished for an instant.

When he felt Terra Firma back underfoot, the area around them was very different. They were in a courtyard. The building surrounding them was invisible in the night. The only light on inside was coming from a large doorway on the first floor.

The boy and woman had fallen down on reentry. Marcus picked up the little girl and headed over to the light.

"This way." he said, hurrying into the building.

"Give me back my daughter!" the woman cried, leaping to her feet.

Marcus stopped and waited for her to catch up. She snatched the girl back from him.

"The infirmary is there." he said, indicating the doorway.

She ran ahead of him. Marcus waited for the boy to catch up and followed behind him. They stepped inside. The room looked like it took up the entire ground floor of the building. It was dotted with concrete pillars and cots, a handful of which had heavily bandaged occupants. A woman in scrubs came running over from one of the supply cabinets that lined the walls.

"My name is Poppy." she said; a hasty introduction. "Just sit here and lie her down on her stomach."

Poppy Pomfrey set to work cleaning and mending the wound on the girl's back. Marcus sat down next to the boy and started cleaning the cut on the boy's head.

"What's your name, sir?" Marcus asked.

"Owen." he said. "Owen Cauldwell."

"Were you a student at Hogwarts?" Marcus asked.

"I started my first year last year." said Owen. "It was in the Gherkin Building. They said I couldn't come back this year."

The first day of term was coming up. All muggle-born students had been informed by the new Ministry, in no uncertain terms, that they were no longer welcome at the school.

"Is anyone else in your family magical?" Marcus asked.

"No." said Owen.

Marcus waved his wand and the cut closed up.

"You were very brave, you know." said Marcus, standing up.

Poppy gave the girl one last potion and turned to her mother.

"She's going to be just fine." said Poppy. "We can keep her down here for observation or Marcus can take you up to your rooms and you can all sleep together tonight."

A few minutes later Marcus was leading the family down the balcony that ran along the eighteenth floor.

"We're putting you in room 401." said Marcus. "It's yours as long as you want to stay. While you're here, you can come and go as you please. We're protected by hundreds of enchantments. You will be safe here."

They finally reached the door and Marcus opened it for them. The Cauldwells stepped inside. The room was furnished with a desk, a bed, and a dresser. There was another door they guessed led to a bathroom.

"There's a mess hall on the ground floor." said Marcus. "They start serving at five in the morning, but you can sleep in as long as you want. When you're ready to go down, the house elves will give you something to eat. One of our superiors will explain," he gestured around them, "all this to you tomorrow. For now, just get some rest. Good night."

As he turned to leave, the woman grabbed his arm. "Please, um..."

"Marcus." he said.

"Marcus." she continued. "We were attacked in our home, my husband held them off while we ran away! I don't know if he's-"

"I went to your house first when I got the call." Marcus interrupted. "It looks like he got away and tried to come after you. "

"He's alive?" said Mrs. Cauldwell, crying in relief.

"Yes." said Marcus, taking her hand that was holding him in place. "By the time the wizards that were after you come around, his trail will have gone cold. They won't be able to find any of you. We'll be looking for him, but there's nothing else we can do tonight."

"Thank you." Mrs. Cauldwell said through her tears.

Marcus walked back along the landing after they bid him goodnight. He focused his thoughts and Apparated down to the courtyard. He pulled out his console and sent a text to his brother, Diego.

_Marcus&Ron: woman, girl, underage wizard_

There was a popping sound nearby and he turned to see Harry and a young woman he did not know carrying a young man who was also a stranger. The young man was bruised all over and his clothes were ripped like he was mauled by a lion. Harry and the young woman were carrying him under his arms towards the infirmary. Hermione was walking behind them.

"One wizard." she said to Marcus as she passed him.

Marcus typed another message to Diego.

_Hermione&Harry: One woman, one wizard_

There was another popping sound. He looked up to see Draco, bleeding from various wounds and covered in rubble. He was stomping angrily towards the infirmary. Ginny chased after him, looking unscathed. They didn't say anything to Marcus as they passed by.

Marcus typed out one last message.

_Draco&Ginny: no survivors_

He slipped his console back in his pocket, focused his thoughts, and Apparated up to the top floor. He opened the door nearest to him, Room № 13. It was the room he shared with Ron Weasley. He walked inside to the dark room. This room was even smaller than the Cauldwells. One side of the room had a shelf and a chest of drawers that doubled as a desk. The other side of the room was occupied by a bunk bed. If you ate right, exercised, and thought thin thoughts, you could fit inside.

Marcus walked over to the bottom bunk where Ron was sleeping. His snores had an oddly soothing quality. His arm was resting over the covers. It was covered in bandages from an injury he sustained in a fight against the Death Eaters that morning. He had been ordered on bed rest to recover from the curses he'd been hit with. Marcus had gone on their mission alone that night so Ron could recover fully.

Marcus reached out a hand and ran it through Ron's red hair. Ron mumbled in his sleep without waking.

He felt very horrible. It had nothing to do with curses or injuries. He had lied to Mrs. Cauldwell. When he arrived at their home, her husband was dead, his body mutilated beyond recognition. At some point, she would find out the truth.

Then again, that was later. They might all be dead by then.

~o!o~

On the other side of the world, Cynthia Montefiore, Marcus's mother, was sitting on a curb in a small town in California. She was unseen to mortal eyes; a disillusionment charm concealing her flawlessly.

She was consulting the console in her hand. It had a small list of people and a tally on the bottom of the screen. The tally read: _3 Philia – 3 Storge – 1 Agape._

A yellow school bus pulled up to the street corner. The doors opened and a few children came out. A pair of high schoolers came up to Cynthia, talking animatedly. One was a girl with big brown eyes and straight brunette hair. The boy was mop headed, with blue eyes, and grinning like a loon. They walked into different yards, but kept talking over the fence. They boy leaned over the fence, closer to the girl. They were trying to prolong the time they had together.

Cynthia looked down at her console and scrolled down to the next two names on her list. Next to the names J. Mosely and N. Bigby were the pictures of the two young people that were staring love struck at each other. These were definitely the two for which she had been waiting.

She stood up from her seat on the curb and pulled out her wand.

The pair turned to look at her suddenly, like she had just appeared out of thin air.

"Hello." she said, sorrow in her voice.

"Hi." said the boy, uncertainly. He took a step out of his yard and put himself between her and the girl.

Cynthia reached her hand up and cradled his chin in an affectionate gesture. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but there was no time for that. She sent a magical pulse out of her fingers and the boy fell limp. Cynthia caught him in one arm.

"What did you do?" the girl screeched and dived forward.

Cynthia waved her wand and the girl fell asleep.

One more Agape.

~o!o~

Marcus was awakened by a severe pinging coming from his console on the chest of drawers. The alarm always went off at half past five in the morning. Marcus did a quick calculation in his head. He'd had four hours of sleep.

He jumped down from his bunk and turned to see Ron, who was pulling himself into a sitting position.

"Are you feeling better?" Marcus asked.

"Great." said Ron, pulling off his bandages. "I can go back on duty today."

Marcus opened his drawer. His mission ware was on top of everything, where he had put it last night. It was a form fitting Kevlar material that had been enchanted for extra durability and to make the fabric breathe. Underneath it were his gardening clothes, work clothes, and casual wear. He picked up the casual wear, a fresh set of knickers, and he and Ron left for the communal baths a few floors down.

Ten minutes later, Marcus was fresh and clean. He was standing in the courtyard, waiting for Ron, who had to remove a mummy's worth of bandages.

Marcus came down to the courtyard every morning, before he started the day. It did him good to see that the building was still standing. He went over the structure in the light of dawn.

The courtyard on it's own was big enough to be used as a football pitch. It was surrounded on three sides by the actual building that towered more than a hundred feet overhead. The fourth side was a solid rock wall, seven meters high with huge metal spikes coming out of the top. From the higher floors, you could see the wall was a meter thick and went on to surround the rest of the building. Marcus knew it was enchanted to withstand a bomb attached to an oncoming freight train.

The building itself was an oddity. It looked like someone had taken a random bunch of tenement buildings and seedy motels and stuck them together like an architectural collage. Honestly, that was exactly how it was built. The mismatched floor plan made it difficult to find the right room. A balcony ran along every floor in an attempt to make it easier to navigate.

The bottom floor was half infirmary and half mess hall. Both had a steady flow of traffic. The roof was covered in antennas. There were so many, it looked like the building was growing hair. Here and there, the roof also had water tanks, dozens, to supply all the tenants.

The compound was protected by hundreds of spells and enchantments. The magic kept them hidden as well as impregnable. The entire building was protected by a Fidelius charm. It had several secret keepers to bring in the refugees.

The refugees that lived here numbered in the hundreds. They were muggle-borns who were trying to escape lynch mobs. Blood traitors and fighters for the resistance also called this place home. Many of them had their families with them.

They fondly referred to this place as the Hogwarts Bastion, in loving deference to their old school. Many people had hung banners of their houses off the balconies. The lions of Gryffindor looked down on Marcus from the red and gold banners. Raven's and Badgers looked down from their own flags. Marcus noted with pride that a few green and silver serpents were among the mascots.

Marcus turned his attention to the freestanding pillars that were distributed around the courtyard. They were covered in little cards. Most cards had pictures and names on them. Some had no pictures. Some had no names. Some had neither. But they all had dates and causes of Death.

Marcus walked over to the most recent additions and started reading.

_Simon and Silvia Broome; August 7__th__ 1995; burned to death in their home._

_ Mason Creswell; August 9__th__ 1995; crushed by a collapsed building._

_ Maya Pangur; August 9__th__ 1995; killing curse fleeing a riot._

_ Peter Bromley; August 12__th__ 1995; kissed by a Dementor._

Ginny appeared beside him and put up a new card. No picture.

_Theresa, Andrew, Philip, and Alphonse Fletcher; killing curse in their home._

These were the casualties of the war. Innocent people that had been murdered by meaningless hate.

Draco appeared behind Ginny. His wounds from last night were gone. He wore his hair close cut these days since his hair kept getting in his eyes when it was long. His locks had been a point of pride for him, but visibility was crucial in seven against one duels. Duels were getting more dangerous now that all the Death Eaters had Superconductor Wands.

He looked mournfully at the card for the Fletcher family. Everyone who went on rescue missions was saddled with guilt over the people who didn't make it. Draco already caught a lot of flock because his father was the head of the corrupt Ministry. He was determined to make his own reputation by saving the world on his own if he could.

Harry and Hermione were next to join them in the courtyard. Harry, Hermione, Draco, Marcus, and Ron belonged to a group they had formed their first year in Hogwarts. A union of all four houses that they called The Fifth House. Ginny more or less belonged with them because she was Draco's girlfriend. They six of them were regularly sent out on rescue missions, in addition to other duties.

They had all been given three neighboring rooms on the top floor of the Bastion. When they first moved in, Cynthia had assigned Room № 12 to Harry and Draco, Room № 13 to Marcus and Ron, and Room № 14 to Hermione and Ginny. As soon as the responsible adults busied themselves with more urgent matter Ginny and Harry switched places. There would be hell to pay when they were found out, but that was later, they could all be dead by then.

Ron appeared next to them with a crack.

"I ran into Shacklebolt." he told them. "There's going to be a staff meeting at half past seven."

Staff meetings were a regular thing, but this one was unscheduled. Marcus hoped there wasn't some catastrophe.

There was another crack a short ways away. They looked over to see Professor McGonagall. Since the war started, she hadn't bothered wearing her typical robes. Right now she was wearing overalls and a flannel shirt. She had the Creevey Brothers, Colin and Dennis, by their ears and was pulling them towards the mess hall. Marcus couldn't imagine how painful it must have been to be Side-Along Apparated by the ear.

Marcus loved being able to Apparate on his own. After the Bastion was first set up, Diego had impressed upon them how useful it was to be able to escape in a second. That week Diego had put them all through Apparation boot camp. His lesson was comprised of throwing them off the roof of the Bastion and they had to Apparate before they were obliterated by Terra Firma. If they didn't make it, Diego would Apparate down to them, catch them, Apparate ninety-seven stories in the air and drop them again. It was the same method Cynthia used to teach Diego. It got _extremely _fast results.

"Good morning, Minerva." said Draco.

"Good morning, Marcus." said Minerva. She had left Hogwarts to fight in the resistance and left the title of Professor behind. Draco never tired of being able to call her by her first name.

"Why are you dragging the Creevey Brothers to breakfast?" Hermione asked.

"They were outside." said Minerva. "Booby trapping the entrance to the Ministry."

"They didn't!" said Hermione.

"Did it work?" asked Ron.

"No." said Minerva severely. "I brought them home. And I will deal with them very harshly." Everyone's stomach growled. "After breakfast." she appended.

A few minutes later, they were all seated on one of the long tables in the mess hall. Marcus buttered his toast while watching the news on the north wall. BBC World Service was constantly projected on the wall of the mess hall. These days, the news never stopped coming. Right now, it was reporting an earthquake in Manchester. They estimated that hundreds had died. Rescue workers had been unable to restore power to the affected areas or bring in any rescue supplies due to 'inclement conditions' and 'unforeseen accidents'.

"What were you thinking?" asked Hermione between bites of pancake. "The Ministry of all places! Enemy HQ!"

"We wanted to strike a body blow!" said Dennis. "Show them we're still strong!"

"Yes," said Ron, "nothing shows strength like turning their lobby into a swamp."

"It was just, quicksand." said Colin.

"We can't make a swamp yet." said Dennis. "We're trying, though."

"Don't you dare try that in the Bastion." said Minerva, sharply. "I just tiled the bathrooms."

The News switched from Manchester to a dam that had ruptured in China. The resulting flood had wiped out several villages. Marcus's eyes flitted to the digital clock in the corner of screen.

"It's nearly time for the staff meeting." Marcus told the others, wolfing down the last of their toast.

The rest of them ate quickly and followed him out.

"I'll deal with you two, later." said Minerva, getting up.

~o!o~

The Briefing room was at the top floor of the Bastion. It had a glass ceiling that was letting in the dreary morning light. The room was set up like a lecture theater, rows of seats leading down to a podium in the bottom of the room. The wall behind the podium was covered in flat screens. When Marcus walked in none of them were switched on.

The room was already half full. People were milling around and talking in small groups. Flitwick, Sprout and Shacklebolt were talking animatedly by the door. Fred and George were talking to Tonks a little further away. At the podium, Diego was reading something on his console. He looked up and smiled at Marcus. It was a full smile. Diego was always glad to see his brother.

Marcus wasn't big on smiling, so he waved back. He loved his brother, but facial expressions weren't his thing. He and the rest of the Fifth House took a seat near the back. He pulled out his console, enlarged the screen, and activated the keyboard. He was ready to record anything important. A few more people walked in and everyone took their seats right at half past.

Diego turned to the wall of monitors and casually waved his hand. The screens all turned on and they could see different meeting rooms and other wizards. Each screen was captioned with the country the group was broadcasting from.

The world over, Ministries were falling prey to corruption or being overthrown by Pureblood Supremacists. Cells of wizards like the Hogwarts Bastion had been gathering for safety. They were all reaching out to each other, cooperating in the face of common threat. This morning they were joined by resistance cells from France, Germany, Spain, China, Japan, Italy, and South Africa. They occasionally got messages from groups in Poland, Russia, India, Australia, Norway, and the United States of America, but those countries hadn't formed functioning cells, yet. Some days, they were joined by Ministries from Portugal, Denmark, Switzerland, and Canada. Their Ministries' were still functioning. They were fair to all their people, regardless of lineage, but they knew that tomorrow that might change and they would need friends in hidden places.

"Good morning." Diego addressed everyone. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice. Given the most recent crisis I wanted to check in on everyone, both here and abroad. Li Fae," he addressed the Chinese Cell, "are your people alright?"

"As you know," said Li Fae, a gray haired man with an impressive beard, "a dam burst late yesterday. It was no accident. It was a calculated attack by Dark Wizards. The area they flooded was an agricultural hub that supplies food for thousands of our people, to say nothing of the people that died in the deluge. We managed to divert a lot of the water. We saved several villages, but many were lost. It will be years before anyone knows how many people even died."

"You did everything you could, sir." said Diego.

"Thank you." Li Fae said. "What happened in Manchester. I don't recall any fault lines in Britain."

"There aren't." said Minerva standing up. "Death Eaters were on a rampage. They caused massive property damage and deaths all over the city."

"Why?" asked the woman who headed the French Cell.

"They were having fun." said Minerva sardonically. "For the bonus round, they've been hampering the rescue effort. Dumbledore and several others took the HMAS Silvana and rained thunderbolts down on the miscreants."

This actually roused a laugh. The Silvana was a flying ship. It was protected by the Fidelius charm so unless you knew about it, you couldn't see it. An invisible floating ship was a great venue to shoot people from.

"We have wizards shooting down muggles in the street." said the man from the Spanish Cell. "In broad daylight. They aren't even _trying_ to make it look like an accident."

"Oh," said Diego, utterly at a loss.

"I've been getting reports from across the border." said the woman from Canada. "Key members of the American government are under the Imperius Curse, possibly even the Commander and Chief. They're disassembling their military. Aircraft are being decommissioned. Ships are being sunk to make reefs. They are terminating army personnel by the thousands."

"Terminating?" asked Tonks, fear in her voice.

"Firing." the Canadian clarified. Everyone let out the breath they were holding. "The increase in unemployment is going to cause a cascading economic failure. In a few weeks the worldwide recession will become a full scale depression."

"Is that bad?" Ron asked quietly.

"It's horrible." said Hermione. "The last depression caused a world war."

"That _is _bad." said Ginny.

"We always knew that was coming." said Diego. "We have been preparing for a depression and we are ready."

"The last superpower in the world has been disabled." said the Italian delegate, in high dudgeon. "The Americans will no longer be able to police the world. Are we ready for _that_?"

"World War Three isn't going to start tomorrow." Diego quailed. "It would take at least a month. We might be dead by then anyway."

The Italian nodded in frank agreement.

"We should keep on with the plan." said Diego. "It remains our best hope."

"I am still not sure about the plan." said the Italian. "We've been studying the materials Signorina Montefiore has given us, but they don't make any sense! It's a manual of-"

"Enough!" roared Diego, holding his hand up in a stopping gesture. "We never share information."

"Scoozi." said the Italian. "But all the same-"

"I understand you all have concerns." said Diego. "I remind you that neither Cynthia nor Dumbledore have ever let us down before. In an era before ours, Dumbledore brought down the most dangerous dark wizard at the time. Cynthia built the Guild and used her power and wealth to modernize the wizarding world."

There were affirmative nods from the other Cells.

"Cynthia was the one who wrangled the Dementors and traveled all over the world, eliminating the Golem armies." continued Diego. "She was instrumental in the founding of most of the Cells involved in this confederation. She has never failed us before, and I am not going to start worrying now. Especially not when we have so many other things to worry about."

The Italian seemed placated.

"I really don't know what we'd do if we didn't have the plan." said the South African delegate. "Sit around and wait to die, probably. While I trust Ms. Montefiore in full, I would like to know where she is and what she's doing."

"Wouldn't we all." said Mad-Eye Moody.

"Cynthia has take our other air ship, the HMAS Exile." said Diego. "She is currently in parts unknown. She is on a mission that will insure the overall success of the plan."

"That's what you said last week." said the Spanish delegate.

"It's really all I know." admitted Diego.

"She was here." piped up the Canadian. "In British Columbia. Two days ago. She brought us a supply of mandrakes and she put us in touch with some underground groups in the United States. She said she was going to California. How she manages to find all these fugitives I'll never know."

"She's all knowing." said Diego.

The rest of the meeting they talked about logistics. Who was having supply shortages. Who had a surplus. Who needed extra help. Who could be loaned out. Economic factors that could influence parliamentary bi-elections and political hegemony. Most people believed that resistance fighters spent all day dodging bullets and shaving with broken glass. In reality, a rebellion is nine-tenths paperwork.

When the meeting was adjourned, Diego turned off the screens and everyone lined up to get a to do list from him. Cynthia was the head of the Bastion and Dumbledore was their powerhouse, but Diego was in charge of the day-to-day running of Hogwarts Bastion. He assigned missions based on the current needs of the people or to further the completion of 'The Plan'.

Some of it was upkeep of the Bastion. Some of it was collecting food. Some of it was going out in the dark of night and kicking righteous ass.

"I wouldn't mind garden duty today." said Draco from behind Marcus. "I could do with sunlight and fresh air."

"You just want to snog Ginny behind the tomato vines." said Harry. Ginny giggled and turned red while Ron just rolled his eyes.

"No, Harry." said Hermione, smirking. "They don't do that. That was us."

"Oh, right." said Harry, slipping an arm around her waist. "I forgot."

"I'm sorry I'm so forgettable." said Hermione in mock hurt.

"That's alright." said Harry pulling Hermione closer. "We just need more practice."

"Practice what?" said a grinning Diego. Harry and Hermione sprang apart. They hadn't noticed the line in front of them had disappeared in the midst of all the innuendo.

"I think I'll put you two on bathroom duty." said Diego, handing them a slip of paper. "The sharp scent of ammonia should keep you focused. When you're done with that, water tanks 1-4 need maintenance."

They groaned and hurried off.

"Draco, Ginny, and Ron." said Diego. "Garden duty. Ron, you are under strict orders to keep them away from the tomato vines or any other suggestive foliage."

Draco and Ginny ran off. Ron followed after a moments hesitation. Marcus was as stumped as Ron was. They always worked together. Marcus always worked with Ron. Ginny always worked with Draco. Harry always worked with Hermione. It was a sacred order they found comfort in.

"Brother." said Diego in a voice that was gentle and firm. "You went out alone last night."

Diego frowned upon people going out on rescue missions alone. He frowned even harder when it was his little brother.

"Needs must." said Marcus. "Ron was indisposed and the Cauldwells were in danger."

"This was indeed the case." said Diego. "However you could have told me and I would have come with you."

"I had no trouble." said Marcus. Diego had more important things to worry about. Everyone did.

"That can't be allowed to happen." said Diego. "Letting you go out unaccompanied would start a dangerous trend. Imagine the trouble the Creevey brothers would get in."

"Yeah, that's true." admitted Marcus. He knew where this was going.

"You will be punished." said Diego. "And the Creevey brothers are both in need of discipline for sneaking out this morning. You will be each others mutual punishment. You're on babysitting duty."

You're a cruel man, Diego Montefiore.


	45. The Grand Arena

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 2: The Grand Arena**

_"In ancient Sparta arguments were settled by who could shout the loudest. We haven't changed since then."_

* * *

><p>Marcus sat amongst a mess of machinery and wires. It gave him the appearance of a bird in a particularly uncomfortable nest. He had a soldering iron in one hand and was willing one of the circuit boards to work. Every so often, he refereed to a schematic he had tacked to a pillar behind him. To any one else, it would look like a bunch of criss-crossing scribbles. To anyone well versed in Cynthia's technology, it was a masterpiece.<p>

Marcus traced one of the lines leading to the voltage source and removed a connection from the circuit. In simplest terms he got the instructions that the circuit had to take input X and put out Y. Aside from that, he had no idea what the machine he was working on even was.

He looked up to see how Colin and Dennis were doing. The area they were in didn't offer any distractions. It was a half completed floor in a construction site. In some places, the floor was missing entirely. If they tried to wander away, Marcus would be alerted by the scream of despair as they fell five stories to certain death.

Dennis was loading scrap metal into a machine that looked like a repurposed meat grinder. Colin was holding on to two handles on the machine. There machine was ejecting nuts and bolts out of the dispenser where they were landing in a box.

"How does this work again?" asked Dennis.

Marcus sat down the now finished circuit board and walked over to them.

"When you were living in the muggle world did you have a computer or a video game?" he asked them.

"Yeah." said Colin. "The princess was _never _in the castle."

"Those machines," said Marcus, "at their most basic level, are controlled by electrical pulses running around little pathways called circuits. Depending on how you arrange the circuits you can do anything from play minesweeper to fly a nuclear missile into your enemy's left nostril.

"This machine doesn't use electricity, it uses Magic. Electricity has two possible states: positive and negative. Magical energy can be one of seven different elements: Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Electricity, Void, and Surprise.

"Earth is the element of substance; it is the principle element of Transfiguration. Water is the element of sustenance; it is the principle element of shield charms and defensive magic. Fire is the element of life; it is the principle element of healing spells. Air is the element of change; it is the principle element of locomotion spells, like levitation or flying charms. Electricity is the element of resolve; it is the principle element of offensive magic, like the Blasting Hex or the Trip Jinx. Void is the element of destruction; it is used in Dark magic and most curses. Surprise is the element of dreams; it's not specific to any group of spells. It's used in Apparition and Cheering Charms, among other things.

"This machine," Marcus put his hand on the meat grinder, "transfigures scrap metal into nuts and bolts we can use. It almost exclusively uses Earth energy. While Colin continues holding on to the diodes, the machine can use his magic."

"Colin is a battery?" asked Dennis.

"Essentially, yes." said Marcus. "The machine does the actual spell casting, so all Colin has to do is stay awake. The benefit is it always makes identical parts. A wizard having to cast the same spell is eventually going to make deformed bolts because his wrist will get tired from all the swishing and flicking."

"So," said Colin, "it's a wand that can only do one spell."

"Well, you can turn this knob here and it will make the bolts longer." said Marcus. "But that is the general idea. Cynthia invented this amalgam of magical and muggle technology. She was going to use Magic Tech in factories. MRIs and life saving medicines could be made easily and cheaply."

"What happened?" asked Dennis.

"A war started." said Marcus sadly. They had been on the cusp of making life better and Voldemort had to ruin it for everyone else.

He looked over at the buckets of nuts and bolts the Creevey Brothers had made.

"You've made good progress." he told them. "Let's take a break."

They walked away from the machine to the far wall, where a tarpaulin was covering a hole. Marcus swept it aside and they stepped out into sunlight.

They were on a platform outside the building, very far off the ground. The Creevey brothers surreptitiously grabbed on to his arms.

When Marcus's eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the building around them. It was a giant stadium. If it was ever finished, it would be the biggest one in the world. It had six spires that towered above them. They were bulky and tapered to points, almost like claws. When viewed from a distance the arena looked like a giant crown.

This stadium was the plan they had put all their hopes on.

Cynthia had used all her influence in the muggle world as well as her own wealth to fund the project. She had approached the heads of dozens of corporation, the Prime Minister, and Elizabeth II to fund the project. Marcus was fairly sure more than half of the investors were under the Imperius Curse.

The selling point, and what they were telling the muggles, was that it was the stadium for the 1996 Olympic Games. The countries that hosted the Olympics enjoyed an uptick in tourism. In the current economic climate, the people welcomed any break they could get. The construction companies that were building the stadium had created thousands of new jobs over night. The Grand Arena was becoming a symbol of hope for the people of Britain.

The ground below was full of stockpiles of supplies and mountains of steel beams and cinder blocks. Muggle construction workers were moving between different structures: welding, riveting, laying pipe, stringing wires, and many were watching someone else work.

The muggle construction workers were avoiding this section of the arena. There were wizards other than Marcus and the Creevey brothers working here. Some of them would instal machinery like the one Marcus was working on. The Weasley twins had found their calling in building the Magic Tech mechanisms. The two would work for three straight days at a time without sleep. They had yet to find a problem they couldn't fix.

Most wizards were not trained to make the Magic Tech circuits, so they would just perform spells to hasten construction. A wall that would take weeks to assemble was done in hours.

There were other wizards, that had other duties, but Marcus had no clue what or who they were. In spite of this arena being their last hope, no one knew what it was. Marcus would occasionally get instructions to build part of a machine, but would hardly ever see where it was installed or knew exactly what it did. Sometimes we was asked to set up a device that was as mysterious to him as the far side of the moon. When they first started, he had been made to sign a contract stating he would never disclose the details of what he worked on. Magical contracts were very terrible about enforcing themselves.

He guessed, from what his friends _weren't _telling him, that everyone had signed similar contracts. No one knew what anyone was doing, and weren't allowed to share what they knew. Everyone was working on a different piece of the puzzle, and his piece was a very weird shape. He knew that the Cells abroad were working on a contributing piece of the plan, but he had no good idea what they were up to either.

The idea was that if any one person was ever abducted by Death Eaters, they wouldn't be able to tell them anything. No matter how much they were threatened or tortured, all they'd be able to tell Voldemort was that Cynthia was up to something.

Because the muggles had to work on the arena, they couldn't protect the structure with any magic. So far, they had been lucky. As far as the Death Eaters were concerned, the muggle's Olympic Stadium was the perfect dimensions for a quidditch stadium, and when Voldemort led them out of hiding, they'd be able to host the next Quidditch World Cup at no personal expense.

In the entire world, Cynthia was probably the only person who knew what they were all up to. She was sailing all over the world on the HMAS Exile working on what must have been the one unifying part of the plan. They keystone, without which everything would collapse.

~o!o~

Marcus had a very firm hold on both of the Creeveys. They were riding an underground tram that ran down the passage from the arena to the Hogwarts Bastion and Marcus didn't trust them not to run away in the cover of darkness. The tram came to a stop at a small metal platform that was illuminated by some flood lights. Marcus and the Creeveys stepped off onto the platform.

"Step lively, now." said Amelia Bones from the door.

Marcus and the Creeveys made a dash inside and Amelia sealed the safe door behind them. She waved her wand over the door and there was a high metallic thud.

"You were the last to come through." said Madame Bones, turning away to walk up the stairs. "Fred and George are working through the night again?"

"I'll bring them something from the kitchens later." said Marcus. He turned to the Creevey brothers. "I want to see my brother. Can I trust you two to go to the mess hall for dinner?"

"Yes, _sah_!" the Brothers saluted.

"If I hear later that you snuck off to assassinate Voldemort, I'll knot your arms behind your head." Marcus warned.

"Yes, _sah_!" the Brothers saluted again. They turned and ran up the stairs. Marcus followed up more slowly. The top of the staircase came out in a corridor that was a straight shot into the courtyard. He walked out into the red light of sunset and looked around the amalgamated building. It was still standing, that was a good sign. The banners of the Hogwarts houses waved gently from the balconies.

He took a deep breath and Apparated to the eighteenth floor. When he came up he walked through the nearest door. The room was full of small desks that were all facing a whiteboard. In the back corner, an olive skinned child with tawny red hair was transfiguring pencils into knitting needles. He looked up when he heard Marcus come in.

"Brother!" Raleigh shouted and ran over to hug Marcus. Marcus actually picked him up and spun him around.

"I'm going to go see if the others are back before I head downstairs." Marcus said to Raleigh. "Do you want to walk with me?"

"Sure." said Raleigh.

Instead of Marcus Apparating them upstairs, they walked down the winding corridors, hand in hand. They didn't hurry. Marcus got very little time with his brother since he had started at Hogwarts. Raleigh was eleven now. He should have been starting his first year. Instead, he was hiding from people who wanted him dead. When Marcus had started at Hogwarts, he had seen Percy Weasley take a lot of time out of his schedule to make sure Ron knew his way around the castle. He imagined that some day he could be there to show Raleigh all the secret passages and how to get down to the kitchen. Four years later, the castle was in ruins and they were in a war.

Raleigh didn't let on that anything bothered him, but it was hard on him not having his mother or his brothers around him like they had always been. His Brother was running the Hogwarts Bastion, Marcus was always busy with some mission or the other, and Cynthia was doing censored in location deleted. These long walks were the only time they got together.

Marcus wanted to see their mother again just as much as Raleigh did, but these days, everyone wanted Cynthia. The Resistance wanted her to come to their Cells and the Dark Wizards wanted to catch her. Voldemort had put a price of ten thousand Galleons on Cynthia's head (body need not be attached).

Eventually, they came up to Room № 12. Hermione and Harry came out with what looked like a rolled up carpet.

"Hi, Raleigh." said Harry.

"Hi." Raleigh chimed. "Is that a carpet?"

"It looks bigger than your room." said Marcus.

"It is, actually." said Hermione. "I've been working on this in my free time."

"Free time?" asked Draco, stepping out onto the balcony.

"When I couldn't sleep." she amended. "Everyone was displaying their house pride and I didn't want us to go unrepresented. Harry and Hermione fastened the end of the carpet to the railing of the balcony and let the banner unfurl.

The banner was black with a shield patterned with black and white diamonds. On the shield was a polar bear. Below it, was the number '5' and beneath that was a Latin motto: '_Non Gratum et Coitus_'_._

"Nice work." said Ginny, looking over the railing. "I didn't know you could sew."

"All girls can sew." said Hermione proudly. "It's our duty to the species."

"Kind of like how ours is heavy lifting and killing spiders." said Harry.

"I'm not going near any spiders." said Ron. "What does the motto mean."

Draco started to translate. "_Non_...don't...give...'I don't give a -'"

"Care." Marcus interrupted hastily, making a show of putting his arm over Raleigh's shoulder.

"Right." said Hermione, getting the clue. "Let's go down to dinner, shall we?"

A few minutes later, they were all seated at their usual table in the mess hall. They set their trays down and tucked in to the ravioli the house elves had made.

Diego came in and picked Raleigh up in a hug. Raleigh giggled madly until Diego put him back in his seat.

Harry and Ron launched into a story about a fertilizer fight they had working in the gardens. The rest of them listened raptly and occasionally broke out laughing. Marcus particularly enjoyed the part where Luna Lovegood dropped a rotten watermelon on Draco from up in the orange tree.

They spent the next hour talking about their day and laughing with each other. For now, they were just a family having dinner.


	46. The Hanging Gardens of Islænfąrn

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 3: The Hanging Gardens of Islænfąrn**

_"It all started in a garden. There was a snake in the grass who wanted to ruin it for everyone else."_

* * *

><p>In the wee hours of the morning, all of London was coated in a thin cloud of mist. Marcus loved the feel of the humidity in his lungs. He stood in the court yard of the Bastion and breathed deeply. The feeling harkened back to when the Montefiores were living in Jamaica. The peak of St. Katherine reached high enough that they spent most of their day in side a cloud bank. Raleigh, Marcus, and Diego had a ball playing 'Marco Polo'.<p>

Marcus was waiting for Ron before they both left. They had gardening duty today. Marcus was dressed in the very zenith of horticultural fashion. He was wearing a loose fitting tee shirt that had more holes than fabric. His jeans were padded on the knees. He was sporting a fanny pack, that was a horrible shade of electric pink. The color scheme didn't matter much. In half an hour it would be obscured by a layer of soil. He also had on a set of Wellingtons that would keep him dry if he ever felt the inclination to wade across the Thames.

He heard a squeal of laughter and turned to see Harry coming from behind one of the pillars. He had Hermione flung over one shoulder, she was laughing and struggling feebly to get out of his grasp. It was sometimes disgusting how in love they were. They ruined being lonely for the rest of them. Harry finally let her down.

"Morning, Marcus." said Hermione between giggles.

"Good morning." Marcus answered. "I should warn you, I am under strict instructions to keep you both away from the tomato plants."

"C'mon, Marcus." Harry pleaded. "Cut your brother a break. What if we die tomorrow?"

"Then I would have to appear before the God of Heaven and explain to his holiness _why_ I let you defile an unwed woman behind a hydrangea." said Marcus.

"Charming, Marcus." said Hermione dryly. "I have standards you know. Where's Ron?"

In response to her question, there was a patterning on the stairs behind her. Marcus saw Ron running down the nearest stairwell. He was sporting a set of plaid overalls. When he saw Harry and Hermione his face darkened for a fraction of a second. Ron was happy for Harry and Hermione. He loved them. Still, he'd be happier if Hermione had chosen him.

Fred and George had done their best to cheer him up, but trying to sneak a 'dancer' into the Bastion was probably a bad move.

"Ready to go?" Ron asked.

"Yes." answered Marcus.

"Where are Colin and Dennis?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Diego is bringing them later." said Marcus. "They've never been to the garden before."

Ron nodded in understanding. The garden was also protected by the Fidelius charm, but it had only one secret keeper: Diego.

Marcus focused his thoughts and felt space compress around him. The next instant, sunlight was pouring down on him and he was surrounded by greenery. He heard a crack followed by swearing as Ron landed in the zucchini beds.

"Weasley!" boomed Pomona Sprout marching towards them. "When are you going to learn to land on the path?"

"Sorry, Miss." said Ron, pulling a loose vine out of his hair.

"You crush any more of my vegetables and those zucchini are going where the Sun doesn't shine." she threatened. "Where are the others?" she looked around.

"Colin and Dennis are coming later." said Marcus. "I expect Harry and Hermione Apparated into the tomato patch."

"Why?" asked Sprout.

"No matter," said Marcus, "we'll find them. Where do you want us today?"

"I'm giving some attention to the Whomping Willows, they got in a fight with the Venomous Tentacula." said Sprout. "Longbottom is assigning chores today." she pointed up the hill. "He's in the orange grove."

Marcus and Ron made their way to the orange trees, detouring slightly to the tomato patch. The garden was a series of tiers, like giant steps. Everything had it's own separate bed with brick walkways going between them. They passed people that were watering or weeding or harvesting. The Patil twins waved as they walked by. Theodore Nott threw Ron a tangerine.

They walked up the last set of stairs to the tier on which the orange trees were planted. Neville Longbottom was standing under them, flipping papers on a clipboard. He and Sprout lived in the garden full time, his knack for Herbology was invaluable to the war effort. Constant gardening had been highly beneficial to him. He didn't have an ounce of fat left on his body, and his shirts were becoming very tight. It wasn't uncommon for the Patil twins to volunteer to help him during the afternoons. In the heat of the day, it could become unbearably hot. Neville would take off his shirt so he could continue working comfortably.

"Morning, Neville." said Harry.

"Is it?" said Neville, not looking up from his clipboard. "The north face of the island is becoming infested with bull thistle and none of the tomatos are ripening. It's like some one's going back there and-"

"Is there anything we can do?" Hermione interrupted, reddening slightly.

"The Dittany is ready for harvesting." said Neville, reading the list. "After your done with that, the strawberry fields need fertilizing."

They were walking between rows of string beans when they heard a cracking overhead.

Marcus looked up to see Diego, hovering twenty feet above them. He had a Creevey brother in each hand, dangling them by their ankles.

"Can you take consignment of two troublemakers?" he called down to them.

"Sure." said Marcus. "Just drop them in the manure pile."

"No!" Colin and Dennis shouted.

"We'll catch them." said Hermione, feeling merciful.

Diego let go and the brothers plummeted to Earth. Harry and Ron held out their arms and caught them.

"Come along." said Marcus, walking ahead as the Creevey Brothers were on their feet. "I'll give you the grand tour. Welcome to Islænfąrn. It's an island off the coast of Wales." said Marcus.

"How do you pronounce that?" asked Colin.

"hWay-uls." enunciated Marcus. "They day after the Hogwarts Bastion was build, Cynthia and Dumbledore tried to plan out how we'd feed all our people and get potion ingredients for medicines and remedies. There was a risk that the Death Eaters would find any farmer or apothecary we were working with. We didn't have much in the way of money, anyway.

"Eventually, it was decided that we'd make our own garden. They found an inhospitable, rocky, island forsaken by God. They terraformed the island into these tiers." Marcus gestured to the giant steps of the garden.

"Their kind of like the rice fields I saw in those pictures of China." said Dennis.

"Very astute." said Marcus. "That was their inspiration. The whole island had to be climate controlled to pull us through the winter so they added the glass ceiling." he pointed to the sky above.

Colin and Dennis looked up to see a sky of interlocking hexagonal sheets of glass. They followed them down to the sea below and over the other side of the mountain.

"The whole island is covered by glass?" said Dennis in awe.

"Yep." said Ron . "When winter comes around this island is going to be as hot as midsummer."

"It will allow us to harvest year round." said Hermione. "We also cheat; use magic. All the plants yield more fruits and vegetables faster."

"It must have taken them ages to build this." said Colin.

"Diego, Cynthia, and Dumbledore built the whole thing in half an hour." said Marcus. "They spent the first twenty minutes arguing about who was going to bring in all the manure. Here we are."

They stepped down to the waters edge where small, soft, green clumps were growing close to the ground.

"This is Dittany." said Hermione. "It's a crucial ingredient in most curative potions."

"We'll be harvesting the leaves." said Marcus, unzipping his fanny pack. "You two will go along behind us and put down fertilizer."

"Ok." they said.

"And by fertilizer I mean horse shit." said Marcus, he pulled a shovel out of his fanny pack. It was a full sized shovel. Undetectable extension charms made carrying everything so easy.

"No I only have one shovel," said Marcus, "so one of you are going to have to spread it around by hand."

~o!o~

Sunset, and they all Apparated back to the Bastion. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Marcus walked straight towards the mess hall, but Colin and Dennis were stumbling around. All the muscles from their eyebrows to their toes burned. They were holding their hands out delicately in front of them. They were covered in angry red blisters.

"How do you feel?" asked Marcus.

"I'll never sneak out again." said Dennis.

"Good." said Marcus.

"Look!" cried Hermione, pointing to the sky above.

Marcus looked up to see a sleek black shape floating above the Hogwarts Bastion. The HMAS Silvana.

"What are we looking for?" asked Colin. He and Dennis were staring up at the sky, confused.

The Silvana was invisible to people who weren't clued in.

"It's nothing." said Dumbledore, walking up to them from out of the infirmary. Marcus could remember the first time he saw Dumbledore. He had long hair, and beard. He had been decked out in flowing robes. These days he dressed in casual muggle clothing. His beard and hair were trimmed down to a more manageable length.

"It's good to see you all doing well." he said his eyes twinkling. "Though I wish we could have met when you smelled better."

Marcus looked down to see the layer of manure covering him.

Dumbledore waved his wand and the soil vanished.

"Let's have a look at those hands." he said stepping over to the Creevey Brothers.

After he sorted out the blisters, they all went into the mess hall for dinner. Raleigh and Diego were saving a table for them.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Dumbledore, walking up with his tray.

"We'd be honored." said Draco, pulling a chair out for him. "How are things in Manchester?"

"Tragic." said Dumbledore. "The Death Eaters cleared out after we rained curses on them for a few hours. We managed to clear away enough rubble for rescue workers to get through. We did some search and rescue. But in the end, we couldn't just wave our magic wands and fix the city."

"Shame." said Diego.

"I got a message from Professor Snape on my way back." said Dumbledore. "He's been named Headmaster of Hogwarts, in light of Dolores Umbridge's mysterious disappearance."

"Oh." said Hermione. "What'd we do with her anyway?"

"I thought Harry had her last." said Marcus.

"I gave her to Seamus so I could fit my bed inside." said Harry.

"He didn't have her with him when he moved in with Dean." said Hermione.

"The old teaching positions have all been filled." continued Dumbledore. "Mostly competent people, but the new management has insisted that Amycus and Alecto Carrow take over Muggle Studies and The Dark Arts."

"What do they do?" asked Ron.

"Alecto will be telling students how muggles are stupid, primitive, and need our leadership to survive. Leadership here takes the meaning genocide." said Dumbledore. "Muggle Studies is now compulsory."

"Amycus will be showing the students how to use curses and torture people." said Dumbledore, prodding his waffle harder than it deserved. "He generally assigns homework of muggle hunting. St. Mary Axe has become a horrible neighborhood."

"You'll be Headmaster again someday." said Draco, patting Dumbledore's back.

"This is the Real Hogwarts." said Dumbledore waving his arm over the mess hall. "Hogwarts isn't a building and classrooms and teachers and homework, that's what Hogwarts has sometimes. What Hogwarts _is _is people sharing their knowledge to make the world a better place. Voldemort and his Death Eaters want to hoard knowledge for a few lines of inbred families."

"Mother wants to share what we have with the muggles." said Raleigh. "She was going to use Magic Tech to end world hunger and global warming and democracy."

"Don't you mean totalitarianism?" asked Hermione.

"No." said Diego. "Mother wants end democracy. She believes government is more functional when there is a single ruler with all the power, able to take decisive action."

"She _really_ believes _that_?" asked an astonished Hermione.

"As long as she's the ruler, yes." said Marcus. "If it's anyone else, it's despotism."

"Yes, I feel the same way most days." said Dumbledore.

"You haven't..." started Marcus. "...heard from Cynthia. Have you?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "I'm afraid she's still dark."

~o!o~

The HMAS Exile was flying over the Indian Ocean. It was virtually identical to its sister ship, The Silvana, but was pure white instead of the Silvana's solid black. Cynthia stood on the prow of the ship, reading the tally on her console. So far, today: _1 Philia – 1 Storge – 3 Agape. _This was taking forever. The good news is they wouldn't need them for a long time yet.

The Exile slowed down and Cynthia looked over the side to see a cruise ship on the water below. Exile eased down gently until it was hovering along side and slightly above the cruise ship.

On the sky deck, a basketball court was set up. There were children, teenagers, playing a game. She watched them dribble the ball around and make a few baskets. There was a part of her that wanted to give them more time to play.

She decided she couldn't stall anymore and leaped off the Exile. She landed lightly on the basketball court. All the kids turned to stare. She looked back at all their shocked faces. It wasn't everyday that a woman just drops out of the sky. She finally found who she was looking for. It was a pair of blond twin boys, standing on opposite sides of the court.

Cynthia walked over to the nearest one. He didn't move. She didn't seem threatening to him, and she was _pretty_.

Cynthia reached up and gently swept his hair out of his eyes. What do you say? she wondered. What do you say to someone before you steal their life?

The boy collapsed. Cynthia caught him before he hit the ground. His brother dropped the ball and ran to them from the other side of the court.

Cynthia jabbed her wand at him and he fell limp and floated in midair.

The other children started running around, panicked. A few adults were fighting their way over to her. She and the two boys floated up into the air, towards the Exile.

1 more Philia.


	47. Fugitive Refugee

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 4: Fugitive/Refugee **

_"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter."_

* * *

><p>Marcus was woken by a shrill ringing from his phone. He was out of his bed in a flash. He picked up his phone from the chest of drawers. Ron leaped out of bed behind him. Marcus said a quick prayer that it was a message from Cynthia saying that she had just killed Voldemort, the world would enter a lasting state of peace, and it was going to start raining money.<p>

He checked the message. It was from Diego.

_Killing Spree. Whitechapel._

"Why is it always Whitechapel?" said Ron, yanking on his black Kevlar shirt.

"It was Barbican last week." said Marcus.

"What time is it anyway?" Ron asked as they stepped out and locked the door behind them.

Marcus checked his Mickey Mouse watch.

"2:30 in the morning." said Marcus.

Next door, Draco and Ginny came out of their room, also dressed in their black mission gear.

Draco gave Marcus a sleepy nod.

"It's going to be one of _those_ nights." said Draco.

~o!o~

An hour later, Ron and Marcus were looking down at a derelict street. It was as uneventful as an empty grave.

When they arrived, they found nothing out of the ordinary. They decided to find a vantage point and stake out the street. The flat they were in was owned by a nonagenarian who had mastered sleeping through the previous two world wars. The window panes vibrated with her snoring.

"This isn't much of a killing spree." said Ron, not even bothering to whisper.

"It's a total dud." agreed Marcus. "Diego usually has such good intel."

"We could be sleeping right now." said Ron bitterly. "Will he let us sleep in if he sent us on a wild goose chase?"

"He probably won't sympathize with your plight." said Marcus. "He's only been sleeping one hour out of every ten."

"How does he do it?" said Ron, his eyes following a tabby cat on the pavement.

"Someone has to run the Bastion." said Marcus.

"Yeah, but he doesn't have to be a human sacrifice." said Ron.

"He doesn't want to let Mother down." said Marcus.

Ron gave a nod. They both kept staring down at the street.

"So." said Ron, after another minute of nothing happening. "How's Raleigh?"

"He's doing alright." said Marcus. "He's worried about us. Some fine day we might not come back from a mission."

"Yeah." said Ron.

Another minute of nothing happening past.

"How's Ginny?" Marcus asked.

"Dunno." he said. "She spends most of her time with Draco."

"You're taking that rather well." said Marcus.

"Mum will deal with him later." said Ron.

"Poor Draco." said Marcus.

Ron nodded. More minutes passed. More nothing.

Ron pointed to a graffiti scrawl on the other side of the street.

"Who's he?" Ron asked.

Marcus looked over to read the message: _jAkc tHE RippER wAs HERE._

"Jack the Ripper?" asked Marcus. "You haven't heard of him?"

"No." said Ron.

"Jack the Ripper is a muggle folk hero." said Marcus. "In 1888 he campaigned to end prostitution in the Whitechapel district."

"Oh." said Ron. More time passed, equally uneventful.

"Well, it's four o'clock and all's well." said Ron. "If we leave now we'll get back in time to wake up for Breakfast."

"Wait." said Marcus.

"C'mon we've been here for an hour." whined Ron. "There's nothing-"

"There!" said Marcus.

Down the street there were dull green flashes of light. They were getting brighter. They heard a shrill scream and a bright red jet of light sailed past their window. They both jumped back in surprise. The snores of the nonagenarian ceased.

Two small figures ran down the street below, hand in hand. There was a group of wizards running after them, firing hexes.

Marcus took a quick tally of their number and the spells they were using. These were not skilled wizards. These were baboons waving sticks.

He turned to Ron and they nodded to each other. They Apparated behind the attacking wizards, who were so focused on their quarry they didn't even turn around. With practiced synchronicity, they both cast the Trip Jinx.

The two in the front went down first. Everyone else tripped over them. Ron and Marcus ran up on them while they were struggling to get up. After a few Incarcerous Charms, they stayed down.

Ron reached down and picked up one of their wands.

"Wood." he said, throwing it over his shoulder.

They ran down the street to where the two fugitives had been running. As Marcus approached the corner, they heard what sounded like two girls crying out for help. He and Ron tiptoed to the corner and Marcus pulled out a pocket mirror. Useful for checking for blackheads and Death Eaters. He used it to peer around the corner. There were two girls being held by some thugs. Most of them seemed as dumb or dimmer than the wizards they had just disarmed, but there were two at the front of the group that looked dangerously composed.

"I have an idea." said Marcus.

"What?" said Ron.

"Be sure not to throw up." said Marcus.

"_What?_" said Ron.

"Actually, throwing up might help." said Marcus. He grabbed Ron's wrist. He Apparated above the Death Eaters. Forty feet above the Death Eaters. There was a millisecond of blissful weightlessness before they started plummeting to the pavement.

Marcus positioned himself in a dive and started firing off curses. Ron was quick on the uptake and began firing as well, though some of them fell a little wide of the mark. Some of them flew up towards outer space.

Marcus landed with his knees on a man's head. Ron landed heavily on a pile of unconscious bodies. Marcus looked around. There wasn't a single man left standing.

"Excellent!" said Marcus. "Not bad for an improvisation."

There was a retching sound as Ron threw up on one of the bodies.

"Nice work." said Marcus. He saw something glinting on the ground and picked it up. He was holding a metal stick with a candy cane stripe: A Superconductor Wand. There was a time when only the Guild made superconductor wands. Now, Voldemort had the recipe and all the Death Eaters were carrying them. They weren't as good as Cynthia's. The grunts of the organization had low grade aluminum rods with tungsten spiral and a diamond core.

The generic ones were still quite deadly, though.

He heard footfalls down the street. He looked up the see the two girls heaving themselves away from the fray.

"Wait!" he called, running after them. "We're with Dumbledore! We can help you!"

They tried to heave themselves faster. Marcus caught up with them easily and ran ahead to face them. They stopped short and clutched each other, gasping for breath, white with terror. Then he got a good look at them.

"Daphne?" he asked. "Daphne Greengrass?"

Daphne Greengrass had been sorted into Slytherin the same day he was. She had been as nasty to him and Ron. Not Parkinson level nasty, but still very unpleasant.

"And you must be Astoria." he said conversationally.

They just kept staring in horror.

"So, um." said Marcus. "We can...take you somewhere safe?"

~o!o~

"You brought them here?" roared Moody.

Moody, Dumbledore, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Kingsley, Tonks, and Diego had convened for an emergency meeting in the Briefing Room.

"They were being actively pursued by the enemy." said Marcus, trying to go by the book. "We dispatched the aggressors and brought the refugees back for medical attention. They are being ministered to by Poppy in the infirmary. When they are given a clean bill of health, we'll offer them a room."

"We can't offer them room here!" said Moody. "It's bad enough they know where 'here' is! They're Slytherins for Merlin's sake."

"Hey!" said Ron and Marcus.

"The bad kind of Slytherin." amended Tonks. "They're purebloods. From a wealthy family. They should both be enrolled in Hogwarts. What were they doing in Whitechapel?"

"They ran away from Hogwarts." said Ron. "They thought Voldemort coming back was a good thing, like their parents did, but then..." Ron trailed off.

"We saw the same thing in the last war." said Arthur. "They agreed with Voldemort's ideology but then they saw what he was willing to do. But you don't just hand your resignation in to Voldemort."

"So, they became morally outraged at seeing muggles being killed and tortured and broke out of Hogwarts?" asked Molly.

"More or less." said Marcus. "It started off as refusing to take part in the class killing sprees, and eventually escalated to Daphne hexing the teeth out of Amycus Carrow's head."

"I think we have a place for her here." said Kingsley, smiling.

"No we bloody well don't." said Moody. "They are connected to the Dark Side by blood. We used to think Sirrius Black was on our side, but his whole family was Slytherin. He gave away the Potters. Remember?"

"And then Voldemort died and we entered an era of peace." said Marcus.

There was contemplative silence for a moment.

"That's besides the point!" said Moody.

"We are not running an exclusive club." Dumbledore interrupted gently. "That's what the Death Eaters are doing. We let anybody in. Anyone who needs help or wants to help."

"This isn't exactly the lap of luxury their used to." said Tonks. "A few days of having to dig up their own potatoes and they'll sell us out if it means they can go back to their mansions."

"It's true." said Marcus. They all turned to look at him in surprise. "I'd sell you all out if it meant I didn't have to share a room with the snore monster."

"You talk in your sleep." said Ron, bitterly. "In Russian."

Everyone shuddered.

"We are protected by countless enchantments." Dumbledore reminded them. "Even if they reported back to Voldemort, all they'd be able to tell him is that we're up to something."

"What about the Olympic Stadium?" asked Tonks. "That isn't protected."

"They're staying." Diego said. Marcus knew it was final. No one went against Diego. He was the eyes, ears, and iron fist of Cynthia. "If we turn them out they'll be killed by Death Eaters. That would be innocent blood. We can't punish someone for something they might do later. They'll stay here and we'll give them low risk assignments."

"They could help in the kitchen." said Tonks.

"They might poison us." said Kingsley.

"They could brew potions for Poppy." said Arthur.

"They might sabotage the whole supply." said Molly.

"They could help in the infirmary." said Dumbledore.

"They might kill us while we're weak." said Moody.

"We could prop them up in the courtyard and use them as decoration." said Marcus sardonically.

"They might try and seduce us." said Ron.

"I can see you all have concerns." said Diego, smirking. "I'm going to assign them chaperones for now."

"Who?" asked Tonks. "Everyone is working their fingers to the bone. Who has time to babysit?"

"I have two very capable wizards." said Diego. "They are, so far, untapped, and I believe they will perform splendidly."

"Who?" asked Tonks again.

~o!o~

"Us?" said Colin and Dennis.

"Yes." said Marcus. "Diego has put great trust in you so don't let him down."

"Ok..." said Dennis, uncertainly. "But they're Slytherins."

"What was that?" asked Marcus.

"They're bad Slytherins." Dennis amended hastily.

"The Death Eaters that were trying to lynch them would probably agree with you." said Marcus. "Nevertheless, they are our guests and we will treat them humanely. You are both to take these." He handed them each a Superconductor Wand. The same ones they had stolen off the Death Eaters that morning.

"Listen carefully," he said, as the brothers held the wands in awe, "these wands make your spells more powerful. Any spells you had trouble with will still be difficult to use, but once you learn to do the spells properly, they will be more effective. Since these wands channel more magic, you are going to get tired quickly, so be sure and pace yourselves."

"Thank you." they both breathed.

"We won't let you down." said Colin.

"If you do we're all dead." said Marcus. "But no pressure. We're moving them into the room next to yours. You will accompany them on missions outside. If they leave without you, tell a superior immediately. If you think they're sneaking out messages, tell a superior immediately. If they break into your room at night and try to gouge your eyes out, tell a superior immediately. If they're taking too long in the bathroom, you're on your own."

"Yes, sir." they said.

"There's one more thing." said Marcus. This was the worst part. "The Greengrass sisters are girls, as you could have guessed, so there's something you should be warned about."

They both nodded. Marcus took a steadying breath.

"When a man and a woman care about each other they get certain _urges_..."


	48. Inspiration

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 5: Inspiration **

_"When you breath you inspire. When you don't breathe you expire."_

* * *

><p>Marcus carefully maneuvered a pile of steel beams through the passages of the unfinished construction site. This kind of levitation spell was impossible with a wooden wand, but Marcus had been using his Superconductor wand for three years now.<p>

Ron followed a short distance behind him, carrying a larger pile. Ron took great pride in the fact that his magic was stronger than Marcus's. Magic was not a muscle that you could strengthen with repeated use. It was a detail of your anatomy like height or eye color. What you got was what you got. Cynthia had explained to them that magic was generated in the cells, an organelle called the Belfast Apparatus. It had been discovered by Harry's grandfather, a Microbiologist named Thomas. Some people had more Apparatus per cell than others. Some species had more apparatus per cell than Humans.

Marcus was not jealous of Ron. He was still very strong, and he was more nimble with his wand, capable of casting more complex spells. When this war ended, he wanted to be an inventor like his mother, using his knowledge of magic to make artifacts.

Marcus came through an archway and the ceiling above him disappeared. They were at the base of one of the spires. The entire structure was hollow. The walls of the spire were made of a lattice of steel beams, like the ones they were carrying. The exterior was covered in metal plates. Inside the framework were various platforms each of which were holding some kind of machine whose function was unknown to Marcus.

Ron came into the spire and hopped on top of his pile of beams. The entire pile started levitating towards the top of the spire. Marcus looked up to the patch of sunlight that was coming out of the very top. It was where they were working today.

"Race you to the top." said Ron, his pile rising swiftly.

"Fine." said Marcus. He waved his wand and his pile fell to the ground. He wound up and jumped straight up. He rocketed past Ron and up the hundreds of feat to the zenith of the spire. The different platforms zoomed by and soon he shot out into sunlight. He touched down on a protruding beam and stared outside onto London through the gaping hole in the spire. The city was lit by the gloomy cold light of November. The cold weather was a mixed blessing. If they had been working up here in midsummer, the heat would have been deadly.

"That's cheating." said Ron, coming up behind him. He and his pile came down on a nearby platform. The metal groaned with the extra weight.

"We are Slytherins." said Marcus. "It doesn't make sense we carry up all the beams at once. The platform will collapse and we'd have more work on our hands."

"And we could hurt someones." added Ron.

"That too." said Marcus dismissively. "The point is, I won."

He pulled a blueprint out of his back pocket and looked over the highlighted portion.

"The beams have to crosshatch over here," he said, "and cantilever through the exposed portion..."

They worked in relative silence, using their wands to weld the beams into place.

Fred and George were working a short way away on one of the machines. Watching them put one together, Marcus still had no idea what it was. It looked vaguely like a giant outlet.

Fred and George were fully dedicated to the construction project. The two had been working for seventy eight hours straight. Marcus couldn't remember the last time he saw them take dinner in the mess hall. Usually, one of his family would bring them something.

The twins were average students, but they were savants at hands on mechanics. They were nimble and precise. They never seemed to talk. Occasionally, Fred would pick up a part and hand it to George. George would come over hand hold down a plate for Fred while he was trying to plug something in. This kind of telepathic aptitude was one of the things that made them more productive than twenty wizards following the same directions.

Fred and George were sworn to secrecy, the same as everyone else. They could never talk about the work that was occupying every waking moment of their lives. It made conversation very...dull.

"Hello." said Marcus.

"Hi." said Fred and George.

"I see your both standing." said Ron.

"Yes," said Fred, "a very admirable posture."

"Not that lying down doesn't have it's fine qualities." added George.

"But that is a difficult position to work in." said Ron.

"Lying down is perfect for sleeping though." said Fred.

"Of course." agreed Ron.

As ridiculous as it was, all of them were grateful just to hear each others voices. They knew this might be the last time they ever spoke. They always joked that they might be dead later, but this was a simple truth.

"How are the Slytherin sisters?" asked George.

"Daphne and Astoria?" asked Ron. "They're fine. Colin and Dennis are watching them. They're fixing the leaks in the Bastion roof."

"How are they adjusting to a life of toil?" asked George.

"Pretty well, actually." said Marcus. "Toiling beats the hell out of decomposing."

"Daphne's pretty, isn't she." said Fred, suggestively.

"I suppose so." said Marcus, tracing a meridian on the blue prints.

"Tall, elegant, curvy." said Fred, laying on the innuendo stronger than a prostitute.

"That assessment is accurate." said Marcus, measuring the angle of a strut.

"She has boobs." said Fred, dropping an industrial strength hint.

"Two of them." agreed Marcus.

"Are you going to shag her or what?" said George, taking the direct approach. Ron fell off the beam he was balancing on.

"I have more pressing concerns." said Marcus putting his hands on his hips.

"Life is short, you know." said George, grinning like a loon.

"It gets even shorter if my mother finds out I'm being..." he searched for a word, "ungentlemanly."

"I thought you'd be desperate for it." teased Fred. "What with Harry and Draco being all 'ungentlemanly'."

"Draco and Ginny haven't actually...done that." said Marcus.

Fred and George both looked up, shocked. "Really?" they asked in unison.

"They made a pact." said Marcus. "They'd do it the day the war ended and not a minute sooner."

"They're both hell bent on staying alive." said Ron, who had pulled himself back up.

"So what do they do?" asked Fred. "They share a room."

"They hold each other." said Marcus. "When we finally get to our rooms we're dead on our feet anyway."

"So what do Harry and Hermione do?" asked George.

"That's really something your mother should explain." said Marcus. He went back to consulting the blueprints. There was something weird about this spire. They were building along a seem in the wall, almost like the section was supposed to open up. He looked along the interior cavity. There were absolutely no attachments for any other structures. This spire was designed to _stay _hollow. Then again, the outlet that the twins were building was pointing _into _the cavity. Marcus looked around at the other machines on the other platforms going down the spire. All identical to the outlet the Twins were working on, all facing inward.

Marcus applied all his deductive skills to the evidence at hand, and came up with 'bother if I know'.

The pieces of the puzzle made funny shapes, you didn't know what the picture was, but they all fit together in the end. Or so he hoped.

Dear God, let Cynthia know what she's doing.

~o!o~

The Exile hovered over a suburb of Seattle. Cynthia's console read the tally for today: _7 Philia – 2 Storge – 4 Agape. _She scrolled down the list on names to see a picture of an older blond woman and a young man that was a dead ringer for Diego. The world was full of strange coincidences. They were listed as N. Trager and 781227. Cynthia did a double take. 781227? They gave their kid a _number_?

She looked down below at their home. The boy with the number was working on the engine of an old jalopy. Cynthia felt like she could get tetanus just looking at it. He was working alongside an older man, his father. His younger brother was handing them tools. On the lawn, the sister was sitting on a folding chair, reading a manual out loud, laughing when they got squirted by oil.

The blond woman came out of the house with a tray of Lemonade. Everyone ran over to her and grabbed a glass. Her husband leaned down and started kissing her neck. She giggled like mad and gave a half-hearted attempt to push him away. Their children turned away, grimacing.

Cynthia's grip tightened on the railing until her knuckles were white. She couldn't afford to let these people go. If she let them live in peace, then there would be no peace.

She jumped down off her ship and landed fifty feet below on the pavement.

"Montefiore!" someone roared.

She turned her head to see Thomas Potter and Sirius Black coming down the street, wands drawn. This caught the attention of the Trager family.

"Dr. Potter." said Cynthia cordially. "Are you back on the job market?"

"Go to Hell, Montefiore." said Thomas. "You killed my son."

"Voldemort killed your son." said Cynthia. "I just made sure your son killed him back."

"What's a Voldemort?" asked the younger son.

"I'll be with you in a minute." said Cynthia, holding up a finger.

"And what about me?" said Sirius Black. "You must have known I wasn't the Potter's Secret Keeper and you let me rot in Azkaban. Was that for the greater good, too?"

"It's true, you were an acceptable loss." said Cynthia.

Sirius drew his hand back and threw a curse at her. She knocked it away with the back of her hand. It reduced a nearby fencepost to splinters.

"Actually, I wouldn't even call you an 'acceptable loss'." said Cynthia. "You botched every mission Dumbledore sent you on."

Sirius jabbed and another curse sailed at her, which she sidestepped. It left a crater in the asphalt.

"I remember the time we sent you to evacuate the safe house in Burnham." recalled Cynthia. "Everyone of them died and there weren't even any Death Eaters in the town."

Sirius charged her. Cynthia flipped the man hole cover in the middle of the road into the air and he ran right into it. Then his leg got stuck in the sewer.

She turned her attention to Thomas and they began dueling.

"I wondered when we'd meet." said Cynthia, between hexes. "I knew you'd trace down the names on the list. You picked one and then staked it out. Didn't you?"

"We checked some other names, but they were gone!" shouted Thomas, giving it all he had. "Is kidnapping the new big market?"

"You were adept with a microscope," said Cynthia, "but you never could see the big picture." The jalopy flew through the air and landed on Thomas Potter, wheels side down. She heard a groan after a minute. He was pegged, but not seriously injured. She turned to were Sirius was struggling out of the man hole. She flicked her wand and the sewer sucked him in. The cover slid over the whole and sealed him in.

She turned to the Trager family. The father and the older son were holding the others behind them defensively. Their daughter had a phone and was talking to a 911 operator.

"This might not make sense right now." said Cynthia, coming up their front walk. "You can take solice in the knowledge that the sacrifices you make have greater importance than you can ever imagine."

"Please," said the man, pushing everyone further back, "don't hurt my family. We won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" asked Cynthia.

"That you..." the man trailed off. "What _did_ just happen here?"

"You saw a duel, Mr. Trager." said Cynthia. "A _wizard's_ duel. I won, as I always do."

"You used their tempers to make them unfocused, then took them down with calculated attacks." said the older son, in an oddly clinical fashion. "But, magic isn't real."

"Oh, but it is." said Cynthia. She had no idea why she was soliloquizing. The work she was doing must have been making her unbalanced. "You have magic in you." she pointed at 781227. "So does your mother. It's not like what you just saw. It's not flashy and you can't summon it on demand. It's a deep abiding magic. Powerful as the tide. Beautiful as the rising sun. Some people search all their lives for it. Hardly anyone ever finds it. And I? I have to collect it in bulk!"

"You can take anything you want!" said the mother. This woman was definitely the wrong color of crazy. "Just leave us alone!"

"Shut up!" she yelled, slashing her wand through the air. They all collapsed on the porch.

Cynthia dropped down to sit on the porch steps. Tears were streaming down her face. Sobs racked her body. She held her head in her hands and tried to steady herself. She didn't dare look back at their slumbering forms.

Every pair she abducted, every family she destroyed, a million more would be spared the fate the Death Eaters had planned for mankind. It was simple math. Still...

She heard sirens coming down the street. She picked herself up and took a few deep breaths. She levitated the young man and his mother up to the waiting Exile.

One more Storge.


	49. Benevolence

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 6: Benevolence**

_"Can you hear the people sing?"_

* * *

><p>Marcus balanced on his broom and reached above him with his wand. He prodded the glass panels of the ceiling of Islænfąrn. There was a slurping sound and the seals bulged slightly. Pomona Sprout had insisted that all the climate controls for Islænfąrn where to be checked and repaired when necessary. Marcus and Ron were on broomsticks going along all the glass panels in their assigned section, sealing the panels up tight like a drum.<p>

Sprouts concern was entirely reasonable. It was mid-December and Britain was trapped in one of the worst winters in living memory. The Thames had frozen over for the first time since 1814. Working at the Stadium required wearing twelve layers of long underwear. The last rescue mission they went on, Marcus had to dive into a hole in the ice and pull out Dirk Cresswell from the bottom of the Thames. He had drunk his weight in hot chocolate that night.

Islænfąrn, on the other hand, was still a balmy 80º. Palm trees on the beach swayed in the artificial breeze. The apple trees blossomed in the North facing grove. The young children of the Bastion were running through the fields of rye, playing tag.

Marcus finished securing the last glass plate in his section and flew over to help Ron.

"This is just awesome." said Ron. "It's mid-winter and I'm wearing shorts!"

"Put your shirt on." said Marcus.

"I'm comfortable with my body." said Ron.

They drifted back down to Terra Firma when they were finished up the ceiling. They had left the Creevey Brothers and the Greengrass Sisters tending to the strawberry fields. All the berries had been picked yesterday. They had been watering the plants with a special potion blend that would grow all the berries back within the week.

They found the watering was done, now Astoria and Dennis were having an argument that devolved into throwing chunks of manure at each other. Daphne and Colin were sitting on a wall a safe distance away, watching the exchange. Astoria and Dennis had disliked each other from the minute they met, and everyone knew that could only lead to one thing.

The rivalry aside, the Greengrass sisters had thrived in the Bastion. The world they left behind had been opulent. They were the kind of people that could feel a bean underneath four mattresses. They could swim lapse around their bathtub. But that life was immersed in hatred. People were spit on because of their lineage, shunned because of mistake of birth, and hunted down because of their beliefs. That kind of hatred was toxic. It strangled the joy of life.

There was no hate here; just acceptance, and compassion. They had next to nothing, but they shared all of it. Everyone worked together to get by. Everyone helped everyone else.

"Alright." said Marcus, touching down. "Knock it off."

Astoria and Dennis dropped the dirt clods they were holding.

"Fertilizer doesn't grow on trees, you know." said Marcus.

"That's right." said Ron. "It falls out of horses. And I'm not spending all day following one around with a bucket." Ron shuddered. "Last time, it kept _looking_ at me."

"It had no right to judge you." said Colin. "It can't even put it's own shoes on."

"Putting that aside." said Marcus. "I have bad news. Diego just sent me the assignment for tomorrow. Regrettably, we will be outside."

Everyone groaned.

"It's freezing outside." whined Colin.

"Maybe so," said Marcus, "but the duty calls in the real world."

"What are we doing?" asked Daphne.

"We're going to the people." said Marcus.

~o!o~

5:45 the next morning, Ron was driving a lori down the A5. Marcus sat next to him, keeping an eye out for the police. A sixteen year old driving a truck wasn't strictly legal.

The truck rounded the next turn and they came down Abercom Place. When they cleared the corner, they saw a line of people standing on the street.

Marcus turned in his seat and rapped on the wall behind the cab. A panel slid open and revealed Colin's sleepy face.

"Wake up the others." said Marcus. "We're there."

They heard weak groans in the compartment behind them as Colin roused the others. Astoria peaked through the partition.

"What's the line for?" she asked.

"They're waiting for the green grocer's to open." said Marcus.

"Why?" asked Astoria.

"Because they're hungry." said Marcus.

Ron drove the truck around the back of a green grocers. He reversed up to the back door. When he parked, Marcus jumped out of the door and went to the back of the trunk. He banged on the shutter and it slid up to reveal the Greengrass sisters and Creevey brothers, all of them looking like the living dead.

The back door of the green grocers burst open and the harrowed proprietor came out.

"Thank Heavens you're here." she said. "They're about to break the door down and all we have is one jar of piccalilli." She looked into the back of the truck to see the boxes of produce stacked clear to the ceiling.

"I'll call the boys out to help you load them in." she said, turning back inside. She stopped short and turned back to them. "Aren't you all a little young to be delivering produce."

"Yes, we are." said Marcus. "Do you still want it?"

She shrugged and hurried inside.

A few minutes later they were making a chain with some of the bag boys and handing boxes down from the truck into the store.

"Where did all this come from?" asked Astoria.

"We grew it on Islænfąrn." said Ron. "We harvest twice a week there. You didn't think we ate that much food at the Bastion?"

"I don't know." said Astoria. "Cooking is as foreign to me as Quantum Physics."

"Quantum Physics is easy." said Ron. "The cat is dead _and _alive."

"Where's Islænfąrn?" asked one of the bag boys.

"In Chelsea." said Marcus, turning back to Astoria he continued his explanation. "Right now, there's a world wide depression. Most people have to scramble to make ends meet. Food has become a luxury. We give away the extra food we grow to the people who live in the city."

"That's why there's that line out front." said Ron. "The one that goes all the way around the block."

Colin handed out the last box of turnips. The bag boys took it and went back inside. They heard a clanging sound as the front doors were open and the hungry masses swarmed in.

"Is there going to be a riot?" asked Daphne apprehensively.

"Nah," said Ron, "they're pretty well behaved. This is the one place they can get food, they aren't going to kill the golden goose."

"Are we done?" asked Daphne hopefully, breathing into her hands to keep them warm.

"Not even close." said Marcus, hopping back in the cab.

~o!o~

Marcus rapped on the door to apartment 1435. Daphne was standing at his elbow looking up and down the ratty hallway. She poked gingerly at the paint that was peeling off the wall. It poked back and she jumped away. Colin was rocking on the balls of his feet. Ron had taken Astoria and Dennis to a different floor.

"Wizards live here?" Daphne asked.

"No." said Marcus, rapping on the door again.

The door was opened and a frazzled woman in ill-fitting sweats opened the door carrying a screaming baby.

"What?" she barked over the wailing child.

"Isn't he cute." said Marcus, giving a token smile. With a surreptitious flick of his wrist he shot the baby with a wandless cheering charm. The child stopped in mid-sob and smiled peacefully. The scowl on the woman's face vanished.

"Oh, um." she gave her thoughts a minute to catch up to reality. "Can I help you?"

"The superintendent sent us." said Marcus. "We were informed that you had an issue with the flat?"

"I didn't make a complaint." she said confused.

"So, nothing's wrong?" said Marcus, placating smile still plastered on. His face was starting to hurt.

"Oh, well," she said with a nervous laugh, "nothing works here. Except me." she stopped herself. "I can't really afford..."

"It's covered in the rent." said Marcus.

"I'm a little behind..." she admitted sheepishly.

"I won't tell if you won't." said Marcus. "I get paid the same either way." he winked at her. He hoped she'd let them in soon. He couldn't stand faking any more facial expressions.

She finally stepped aside and ushered them in.

"The fridge isn't working." she said. "The stove hasn't lit in ages."

"The bloody Telly isn't working!" said an old man from the couch. Marcus walked over and peaked around behind the set. He pulled his wand out of his sleeve.

"_Reparo._" he said quietly. The snow on the screen morphed into a football game.

"Dang it!" the old man yelled from the sofa. "St. George is winning." he threw his slipper at the telly. It bounced off and the picture went back to static.

"Glad I could help." said Marcus going back to the kitchen where Colin and Daphne were waiting.

"This is pretty simple." he told them. "If you see something broken, just use reparo. Use scouring charms where you think it would help. Kill all the cockroaches and mice you find. Electrocution hexes are perfect for that. If they ask what your wand is, just tell them it's a refractometer."

"What's a refractometer?" asked Colin.

"No idea." said Marcus. "They never ask. Once we've patched things up here, we move on to the next apartment."

"We're going to magically fix the whole building?" asked Daphne.

"That's the idea." said Marcus.

"If we use that much magic, one of the muggles might to catch on." said Daphne.

"Yeah, but that's later." said Marcus. "We could all be dead by then."

Daphne nodded and got to work on the stove.

~o!o~

The Sun was setting over Britain. Ron, Marcus, Daphne, Colin, Astoria, and Dennis watched it disappear from the roof of the building.

"You should be proud of yourselves." said Marcus. "We fixed the central heating. These people are safe from the deadly cold."

"Now all they have to worry about are Death Eaters." said Astoria.

"I know it might not seem like much," said Ron, "but we made their lives easier just by casting a few charms."

"Do you do this to every apartment building?" asked Daphne.

"Many of them." said Ron. "The ones where people need more help getting by. Some times we go through hospitals and fix the equipment, or cast some healing charms. If we can't cure them, we can at least let fly with a few cheering charms. Last month we visited a factory that was damaged in a fire. It was up and running again that day. We saved everyone's jobs."

"Why do you do it?" asked Daphne. "I mean, I'm glad we did but..."

"We are fighting Evil." said Marcus. "The best way to fight Evil is to do Good."

"The Death Eaters are hunting people down in the streets." said Astoria. "They're causing floods and earthquakes and plague. All we did was fix a few stoves."

Daphne glared at her sister. Astoria was looking gloomily over the city. Marcus didn't blame her. He thought the same thing every day, he was just practiced at keeping his feelings bottled up.

"One year, when Raleigh was three," Marcus started, "we were all taking a vacation in the Greater Andaman Islands. He spent everyday on the beach. One night there was a storm out at sea and the next morning thousands of starfish washed up on the beach. They can't survive above water, so Raleigh was walking down the beach throwing them all back in."

"I told him that he could only save a few out of the thousands that washed up before they all died. In the end, it wouldn't really matter. He picked up a Starfish, through it back into the ocean and told me: '_It matters to that one...and that one... and this one_.'"

"Raleigh really said that?" said Ron, impressed.

"Actually, he said 'สถานที่ท่องเที่ยวที่น่าสนใจ '." said Marcus. "We were living in Thailand at the time. We hadn't taught him any English yet."

"Raleigh speaks Thai?" asked Astoria, smiling slightly.

"Yes," said Marcus, "he prefers speaking Xhosha."

"How many languages does your family speak?" asked Daphne.

They spent the next hour talking about what language was better (the vote was skewed towards English). They went on to which language had better swear words (Patoi), which language sounded scary (Bo), and which was more romantic (Castillian).

The mood was much lighter; all because of a child's understanding of starfish.

"So how many starfish did he end up saving?" asked Daphne.

"After half an hour," said Marcus, "Mother stepped outside, waved her magic wand, and they all got up and walked back into the water."

"Ah-ha." said Ron, mulling this over. "And the moral is...?"

"'Just do your job until Cynthia gets back.'" said Marcus, and they all bust out laughing.


	50. St Mary Axe

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 7: St. Mary Axe**

_"Opportunity makes a thief."_

* * *

><p>Marcus Apparated into the Briefing Room with a pop. He found himself being crushed between Amelia Bones and Percy Weasley.<p>

"Montefiore." grunted Madame Bones. "Never Apparate into a crowded room."

Marcus looked around, or tried to look around. The Briefing Room was so full of people he didn't dare inhale too deeply. Marcus had no idea what the occasion was. He had received a message from Dumbledore, telling him to come in immediately. Marcus was just thrilled the meeting was being held during waking hours. It was the done thing to call emergency meetings in the dead of night. Marcus knew if it was good news, Dumbledore would have just shouted it from the rooftop. Since he had called everyone in his contacts list, it must have been _big_.

Dumbledore took a stand at the front behind the podium. Diego was standing behind him, looking somber. Dumbledore cleared his throat and everyone in the room fell silent and found somewhere to sit down.

"As all of you know," said Dumbledore, "Hogwarts is being used by Voldemort to further his ideology and train wizards to follow him. I was just recently made aware of how much progress he has made.

"Superconductor Wands are awarded to most Death Eaters. However, because of the expense to produce one and their destructive power, Voldemort does not give them to followers who can't tell their ass from their elbow.

"Special classes were being held at Hogwarts for the express purpose of preparing wizards to use Superconductor Wands. Professor Snape has just informed me that the program has gone faster than expected. At a special ceremony tonight, Voldemort is personally going to issue a Superconductor Wands to each of the graduates.

"How many people were in the program?" asked Madame Bones.

"Five hundred." said Dumbledore.

The room was silent for a heart beat. Then everyone broke out in hysterical chatter. Marcus mulled this over. Five hundred new Death Eaters. With Superconductor Wands. In London. Where they were.

"Obviously," said Dumbledore, talking over the din, "We are going to have security concerns. I can guarantee all of you that the Bastion is as well protected as it ever was, but we are going to have to be more careful with all those new Death Eaters on the streets."

There was more, but Marcus wasn't listening. It didn't matter how well protected the Bastion was. With that much power at his disposal, Voldemort could set all of London ablaze. The Bastion would be the last building standing in a field of charcoal. Once the Death Eaters got those wands...

After the Death Eaters were given those wands...

They didn't have the wands yet...

Five hundred wands...waiting for new owners...in Hogwarts.

Marcus reached into his pocket and gave his console a prod. He then turned and made his way out of the debriefing room, squeezing his way through the compacted bodies. In the midst of all the hubbub, no one noticed him slipping outside.

He walked down the corridor to the balcony and waited. After a little while, the rest of the Fifth House joined him.

"It's horrible." said Hermione. "Once they have all that fire power, we'll be counting down the days until the end."

"So, what did you want to talk about?" asked Ginny, holding her own console loosely in her hand.

"Draco." said Marcus evenly. "That secret passage you carved into № 30 St. Mary Axe, is it still there?"

"Um," said Draco, "I think so. There's only one way to find out."

"Go there ourselves." said Ron. "And while we're in Hogwarts, we might as well steal five hundred Superconductor Wands out from underneath You-Know-Who."

"You can't be serious." said Hermione. "We'd be killed."

"And skinned." said Ginny.

"And put on a pike." said Harry.

"And if we're very lucky, they'd do it in that order." said Marcus. "If we do nothing the same fate awaits the people of Britain."

They all mulled this over for a minute.

"We just couldn't do it." said Hermione. "It's just not possible."

"I think it is." said Ron.

"You have a plan?" asked Draco.

"Yes, I do." said Ron. "And it's so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a fox. I'm going to need eight hundred feet of ribbon, twelve hundred party balloons, thirty tanks of Nitrous Oxide, The Invisibility Cloak, A dram of Polyjuice potion, and forty pairs of socks."

~o!o~

Marcus slunk down the hallway of № 30 St. Mary Axe under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak. Every so often, someone passed by, oblivious to his presence. A man with a cross shaped scar on one cheek came down the hall. Marcus waited a while to make sure he was alone and stunned him.

He pulled the man to the laundry room by his ankle. He opened the door and brought him inside. He propped him up next to another unconscious body he had brought in earlier, a man with a graying goatee.

"They look sufficiently intimidating." said Hermione reaching down with a pair of tweezers and pulling out an eyelash from each of them. She walked over to where Ron was holding two glasses of a murky brown liquid. Hermione dropped an eyelash into each glass. The mixture fizzled and they turned different shades of cat vomit. Ron handed one to Ginny.

"Cheers." they said humorlessly. They both threw back the potion. Judging by the look on their faces, it must have tasted like rectal meat. Their bodies began contorting and their skin seemed to melt and mold into a new shape. After a few seconds of the nauseating transformation, they both looked like Dark Wizard № 1 and № 2.

While Ron and Ginny changed into different robes, Marcus turned to Draco, Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore was skilled enough with a Disillusionment Charm that he could make himself totally invisible. Marcus wasn't that good, but he could render them extremely difficult to see.

He took a breath to steady himself and focused hard on what he was doing. He gave Draco a rap on the head. His body seemed to dissolve as the spell trickled down from the top of his head. He did Harry and Hermione next. When he was done, all you could make out was a faint shimmer in the air if you stared long enough. As long as they didn't stand in one place to long, they should be fine. Marcus donned the Invisibility.

"We're ready." he said. Ron and Ginny gave a nod to where they thought he might be, and left the laundry room.

They had to get to the kitchens, and they were right below the Great Floor, where the graduation ceremony was to be held in half an hour. Ron and Ginny marched side by side down the halls. When they passed anyone, they would give a nod. Marcus ducked and weaved through the growing traffic. He occasionally saw a ripple in the air where Draco, Harry or Hermione were doing the same.

They walked across the Great Floor. Rows of chair were set up facing a dais on the far side where a throne was being assembled for the Chief Death Eater. There were people coming up from the staircase across the hall, each of them was carrying a bunch of floating party balloons.

"It sure was nice of Minister Malfoy to send us these for Graduation." said one of the carriers as they passed by.

"Yeah," agreed another, "he really _does _care."

They kept walking and made their way down the stairs. They made their way down one last corridor and through a set of double doors. The room they came into was lined with stoves and long tables. House elves were bustling around, carrying plates of food.

"Good evening." said Ron. All the house elves turned to look at him, thinking he was one of their masters.

"These are for you." he said, dumping out the backpack he had been carrying. Dozens of socks fell out of the backpack; more than should have been able to fit inside of it.

The house elves all dropped what they were doing, literally, and dived for the socks. As soon as they had one, they vanished with a puff. The house elf contract was the strangest thing. They had powerful magic, but were helpless to resist. Give them a piece of clothing and they were free to go. Oh, to be able to go back in time and see who had thought _that _one up. Really, what was the point in owning a slave that couldn't do your laundry?

Harry, Hermione and Draco began pushing the tables out to the sides of the room. At least, he thought it was them, for all he knew the tables could be moving themselves.

Ron and Ginny turned and left the kitchen. Marcus followed behind them. They went down the next staircase to the floor below. The Greengrass sisters had told them that there was a room on this floor that had been refitted with heavy iron doors. The students weren't allowed near it. It was a safe bet that that was where the wands were being kept until the ceremony, which was in twenty minutes. If they weren't there, it was Plan B.

They came up to the promised doors to find two wizards standing guard. Luck was with them, they had the right room.

"Good evening." said Ginny. "We have orders to increase security on the wands."

"Really?" said the first guard, who looked like a scaled up version of Gregory Goyle. "What for?"

"We had a tip that someone is going to try and break into Hogwarts." said Ron. "Try to steal the wands before the ceremony."

"Stupid blighters." chuckled the second guard.

"Nevertheless, we must be prepared." said Ginny. "We have instructions to place two guards inside the chamber and two outside the door."

"Who goes in?" asked the first guard.

"Whoever goes inside could probably get away with taking a lie down." said Ron.

The guards shared a look and scrambled to open the door. They finally unlocked the door and the second guard slipped inside. Ginny grabbed the first guards collar and pulled him back. She jumped inside while he was trying to get his bearings and shut the door behind her. It locked back with a loud clank.

Ron gave the first guard a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Looks like we're standing." he said.

Marcus dashed back up to the kitchen and burst through the double doors. The kitchen was completely empty. The floor had been cleared save for some spilled stew and the odd carrot that the house elves had dropped in their dash for freedom.

"Ginny is inside." said Marcus, taking off his invisibility cloak. "Keep a lookout for-"

He was cut short when a beam of red light shot up out of the corner of the kitchen. The beam went up to the ceiling where it started singeing the panels. Ginny must have succeeded in stunning the other guard, or something equally effective.

"That's enough, Ginny." said Draco's voice. The beam vanished, like someone had switched off the laser.

Marcus took his place at one side of the needle sized hole that the beam had made. Around the hole, three other wands hovered in mid air, their owners unseen.

"On the count of three." said Marcus. "Three."

They all pointed their wands at the whole and shot it with a mauve spell. The hole started to widen, slowly. This had to be done carefully. The floor was three feet of metal and you had to blast through it quietly or the Death Eaters would swoop down on them.

Eventually, the hole was as big as a soup can. They waited, then a long thin box shot out from the hole. Someone, Marcus couldn't tell whom, caught it in mid-air and opened it.

"It's a Superconductor Wand." said Harry's voice. If Marcus was a normal person, he would have grinned.

More boxes came shooting out of the whole like a geyser. In a few seconds, Marcus was ankle deep in them. He pulled his back pack out of his robe and started scooping up boxes. With a normal backpack, he could never hope to get all the wands, but this one was special, it came with an undetectable extension charm.

There were other backpacks floating around, having boxes shoveled into them by their invisible owners. Shortly, the geyser stopped.

"That's all there is." came a voice from below. "How much time to we have."

Marcus checked his watch. Five minutes until the ceremony started. He cocked his ears and he could hear hundreds of footsteps on the floor above.

"Not enough." he called down. He pulled an old can opener out of his pocket and held it over the hole. "Look out below." he called. He dropped the can opener. After a second, he heard it clatter on the ground below. After a beat, he heard a faint sucking sound.

"Are you still there?" he called down. No answer. You couldn't Apparate out of № 30 St. Mary Axe, but Portkeys worked everywhere.

He turned back to his comrades. Two backpacks were still picking up the rest of the boxes, but one of them was over by a cabinet. Marcus could see rows of bottles inside marked 'Ogden's Old Firewhiskey'.

"What," he asked, "are you doing?"

"The Bastion always needs more supplies." said Draco's voice. "We can't pass up free food."

"Liquor is not a food group." said Marcus.

"It is in war time." said Draco.

Marcus rolled his eyes and slipped his Invisibility Cloak back on. He ran downstairs to where Ron was still guarding the outside. He gave Ron a punch in the arm.

"Did you hear that?" said Ron.

"What?" asked the Guard.

"It sounded like a curse went off." said Ron. "I'm going to go check it out."

Ron ran off down the corridor.

Marcus was supposed to follow him back to the secret passage way in the out of order washing machine, but he hung back when they reached the Great Floor. Every seat was filled. The first dozen rows were filled with black clad wizards and witches, like a perverse parody of a high school graduation. Marcus scooted along the outer wall, which was actually a giant window. He stopped at a large display case that gave him shelter against people who might bump into him. He looked down to see a plaque reading 'The Treasures of Hogwarts – Artifacts saved from Old Hogwarts Castle'. They must have added that after he dropped out. There was a fractured crystal ball, some broken hourglasses, a gauntlet, and a small tiara with a Raven motif.

He was brought out of his browsing by the sound of thunderous applause. He looked up to the dais at the far side of the Floor. Voldemort was sitting on his thrown waving passively at his deluded admirers.

Marcus looked around the perimeter of the hall. Huge bunches of party balloons were placed every few feet along the sides. The balloons were supposed to be Plan B, a distraction if the wands were somewhere else. Ron had sent them under Lucius Malfoy's name. They had made it past the dark detectors because there was no dark magic on them. They were, however, filled with Nitrous Oxide, more popularly known as Laughing Gas.

Marcus took aim at the nearest bunch.

"_Opolux._" he incanted.

~o!o~

Marcus Apparated to the courtyard of Hogwarts Bastion. The balloons had ruptured in unison as planned. He didn't stick around to see what happened next. He just broke the nearest window and jumped clear of the Anti-Disapparation Barrier.

He looked around, expecting to see one of his friends waiting for him, but no one was there. Did they not make it?

Then, he heard singing. Loud, grating, off-key singing. It sounded like it was echoing from very high up. He looked up to see some of the antennae on the roof were swaying irregularly, like a huge hand had reached down and ruffled the buildings hair.

A pop later and Marcus Apparated onto the roof.

"_~Now on a peaceful summer's night all nature seemed at play. The tender moon was shinning bright as the barge sat on the bay.~"_

It was even more terrible up close. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Ginny were all swaying, arm in arm, singing 'Growltiger's Last Stand'.

"_~Caught in the balmy moonlight he lay rocking on the tide. And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side.~ "_

He stepped closer and saw what was causing the revelry. Two empty bottles of firewhiskey were laying on the roof. Ginny was holding a half finished bottle.

"Aren't you all a little young to be underage drinking?" Marcus asked tentatively.

"Yesh." slurred Ron. "Yesh, we are."

"Where are all the wands?" Marcus asked.

They all pointed unsteadily to one side. Marcus looked over to what he had thought was an antennae, but was dozens of Superconductor Wands. For reasons known only to them, they had made a scale model of the Eiffel Tower. Out of super weapons. It must have seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Job well done." said Hermione. "Care for a drink?"

"Is there even any left?" Marcus asked. They all laughed raucously at this. It wasn't _that _funny.

"What's going on?" said McGonagall's voice

Marcus spun around. McGonagall, Dumbledore, Diego, Kingsley, Tonks, Mundungus, Molly, and Arthur stood at the edge of the roof looking severe. Marcus suspected that this was the 'later' in which they would all be dead.

"Oh, hey ManOgallon." slurred Draco. "I'm not as look as it drunks I am."

"You drunk pretty looks to me." said Dumbledore.

"What's this?" said Kingsley. He and Tonks were standing at the base of the Eiffel tower model.

"They're wands!" said Harry. He jumped up and fell face forward. "Supuperconducking wands." he continued, undeterred.

"You are very drunk." said McGonagall, clearly not believing him.

"McGonagall." said Hermione. "You are very ugly. In the morning we will all be sober, and you will still be ugly."

Harry and Ron burst out laughing at this. McGonagall started turning very red. Behind her Mundungus snickered. She wheeled around to glare at him and his face straightened out immediately.

"Mundungus has just informed me," said Dumbledore, "that the occupants of № 30 St. Mary Axe are..."

"Tripping balls." filled in Mundungus, smiling again. "They were falling over themselves giggling and drooling. They didn't even notice when I walked in and knicked their stuff." He held up a small sack.

"These are Superconductor Wands!" said Tonks, holding one of them in her palm. "There's got to be hundreds of them!"

Dumbledore's eyes widened and his mouth gaped open. "You didn't..." he trailed off.

"I can fetch a pretty penny for this if we ever get out of this alive." said Mundungus, holding up the tiara that Marcus saw earlier.

"Oh," said Harry, excited, "Hermione would love that! I'll trade you for a bottle of firewhiskey!"

"Deal!" said Mundungus. Harry tossed him a bottle. Mundungus caught in and threw him the tiara.

In spite of his inebriated state Harry caught it. The tiara suddenly glowed brightly. The light flowed out of it and into Harry's body.

"If I was sober," he said, "that would seem strange."

"I'm plenty sober." said a voice from above. "And this seems downright bizarre."

Cynthia fell out of thin air and landed in the middle of the crowd.

"Mother!" shouted Draco and Harry. They ran over to hug her, or they tried. They tripped and fell over several times in transit. Finally they reached her and she embraced both of them.

"I came back for Christmas." said Cynthia. "But it looks like the party started without me."

Was it Christmas already? He could have sworn it was only late December. Oh, right...

"What did I miss?" she asked.

"They stole five hundred Superconductor Wands out from under You-Know-Who's nose!" said Tonks, still gazing transfixed at the Eiffel Tower.

"Aggressive Christmas shopping?" said Cynthia with a smirk. "Diego, take Harry and Draco back to their room. They look like they have some sleeping off to do."

Diego stepped around Molly and Arthur towards the two boys. He picked one up in each arm.

"I don't bunk with Harry." Draco giggled.

Oh, dear.

Marcus started walking quickly to the edge of the roof.

"With whom are you bunking?" Cynthia asked.

Draco hiccuped. "I'm sleeping with Ginny." he said innocently.

Marcus ran off the edge of the roof without stopping to look down. As he plummeted down to the ground below he heard Molly Weasley screaming: "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU PRICK!"


	51. Merry Christmas, The War Has Started

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 8: Merry Christmas, The War Has Started**

_"A very merry Christmas, and a happy new year. Let's hope it's a good one without any fear."_

* * *

><p>"Wake up!" yelled Raleigh.<p>

Marcus's eyes snapped open. He peaked over the side of the bunk bed to see Raleigh jumping around on the floor below.

"Wake up!" yelled Raleigh. "It's Christmas! And Mother's back! And it's Christmas!"

Marcus slipped to the ground below. Raleigh grabbed him in a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Bunny." said Marcus, not letting go.

"Merry Christmas, Snuggles." said Raleigh, squeezing tighter.

"Wake up, Ron." said Marcus, putting his clothes on. "It's Christmas."

"Let me die." groaned Ron.

"What's wrong?" asked Raleigh.

"Ron is at home to Mr. Hangover." said Marcus. "He made very merry last night after we raided Hogwarts."

"You raided Hogwarts?" said Raleigh.

"Yes," said Marcus, "We stole a cache of wands, forestalled the burning of London, and we're in deep trouble with Dumbledore."

"Can you still come to the party?" asked Raleigh.

"Party?" groaned Ron.

"Mother decorated the whole courtyard and told the house elves to make a feast." said Raleigh.

Marcus reached into Ron's bed and pulled him out.

"Please just kill me." he said.

Marcus dragged him outside and looked down at the courtyard. Everyone in the Bastion was milling around down there. The concrete pillars were covered in festive wrapping paper. There was a huge tree standing in the middle of the courtyard. It had been decorated with faeries that were prancing around the branches. Trays full of hors d'œuvres were making their way around the party, held aloft by house elves that had been sadistically dressed as Santa's Elves. Marcus could hear laughter and strings of Christmas Carols echoing up to their floor.

After Ron got a hangover cure from Poppy they wandered into the party.

"Cynthia really knows how to throw a party." said Ron, grabbing a pastry from a passing house elf.

"She has no clue how to throw a party." said Marcus, holding on to Raleigh's hand. "She found someone who could and smuggled all the stuff in here."

They wandered further into the depths of the crowd and found a line of people. Marcus wondered if they were starting a conga. They walked ahead and found that the line terminated in front of Cynthia. After months of her absence, people were lining up to see her. Most of the refugees had never even heard of her before they were brought to the Bastion. They all wanted to meet the legend and give their thanks.

"...can't tell you how grateful I am." they heard Mrs. Cauldwell say. "We would have been dead in the street if you hadn't set up this Sanctuary."

"It was really a group effort." said Cynthia, putting a friendly hand on Mrs. Cauldwell's arm. "And thank you for the help your giving in Islænfąrn."

"Well, it's not much." said Mrs. Cauldwell. "I can't do magic."

"Everyone has something to give." said Cynthia. "Every job is important. Merry Christmas."

Mrs. Cauldwell hurried off and the next person in line stepped up.

"She's more famous than Harry Potter." Harry said, stepping up to them.

"And she looks better in a swim suit." added Ron.

"Words can hurt, you know." said Harry in mock anger.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." said Hermione. "You look better with your swimsuit off." she nudged him playfully.

"What?" asked Raleigh.

"What do you want for Christmas?" asked Marcus, hoping to change the subject.

"Mother's here." said Raleigh. "That's enough for me. If we ever get to the front of the line." he added bitterly.

Diego swooped down and picked Raleigh up in a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Bunny." said Diego.

"Merry Christmas, Daffodil." said Raleigh.

"I brought someone to see you." said Diego. He stepped aside to reveal Draco. Half of his face was slightly red, like his skin had just been healed magically. He was walking with a stiff gate.

"Merry Christmas, Draco." said Marcus. "I see Santa gave you an ass kicking for Christmas."

"It was actually Molly Weasley." said Draco. He turned to look behind him. Marcus followed his gaze to where the Weasley family was standing. They were catching up with Bill and Charlie that were visiting from the Berlin Cell. Molly was holding Ginny to her side. And not letting go.

"It's not fair." said Draco. "All we did was hold each other."

"It's the duty of every mother to be suspicious of teenage boys." said Cynthia, walking away from her line of admirers. She hugged them all in turn.

"It's good to see you again." said Marcus. "Where did you get that?" he indicated her outfit. Her dress was a red and green candy cane pattern, a sharp deviation from her black and white wardrobe.

"I'm bringing Christmas cheer." she said. "Diego thought it might raise morale if I dressed like a floozie."

"I feel better already." said Ron, grinning. He held up his console to take a picture.

"Merry Christmas, Ms. Montefiore." said Arthur Weasley, coming over with his family. Molly kept Ginny behind her. Draco shifted behind Diego.

"Hello Arthur." Cynthia said, hugging him.

"Thank you for bringing Bill and Charlie here." said Fred.

"Christmas is a time for families." said Cynthia. "I also brought this."

A house elf brought a tray of champagne glasses. The glasses were filled with water that twisted and shimmered, like a liquid aurora.

"I don't think I should have any more." said Ron.

"It's not liquor." said Cynthia handing him a glass. She held her own glass up.

"To being alive." she said. "Let's keep it that way."

"Cheers." everyone said.

Marcus took a sip. It tasted like...something. Kind of like...happiness...or maybe...love?

"What _is_ this?" said Molly breathlessly.

"I got this from a Himalayan Monastery." said Cynthia. "It takes three years to distill enough for one bottle. It's the Milk of Human Kindness."

"I thought that was a figure of speech." said Dumbledore, walking up with McGonagall. He took a glass and had a drink. "Nope." said Dumbledore. "This is the real deal. I like your outfit, Cynthia."

"Thank you." said Cynthia. "You can have it after I'm done."

"The mistletoe is a nice touch." said McGonagall.

"Mistletoe?" said Cynthia, confused. McGonagall pointed overhead. Cynthia looked up to see a sprig of Mistletoe hovering over her head. Then she noticed Fred Weasley standing slightly behind her, nervously nibbling at his lip.

Cynthia automatically drew her fist back. Diego leaned forward hastily.

"Fred and George have been working seventy two hour days at the stadium." he said quickly. "Because of their tireless work, we're very far ahead of schedule."

Cynthia didn't move for a moment, her brow furrowed in deep thought. She reached forward and grabbed Fred by the collar and pulled him into a kiss. His whole body tensed up, like he'd been shocked, then he went limp. After three minutes, Cynthia let go and Fred collapsed onto the ground. Marcus looked down at his unconscious body. A goofy grin was frozen on his face.

"I think he died of happiness." said Charlie.

"Where did you learn to do _that_?" asked Raleigh, prodding Fred with his foot.

"I was young once." said Cynthia.

"Ah, yes." said Diego. "The wild party days of the Pleistocene Era."

The party was in full swing. A few people brought out musical instruments they had managed to hang on to. Remus Lupin and Tonks danced boisterously to Jingle Bell Rock played on the Oboe, Xylophone, and Accordion. Silent Night played on the Electric Guitar wasn't a wholly unpleasant experience.

Kingsley found a slip of paper in his slice of Christmas Pudding that read '_I owe you one silver sickle._'

People were exchanging gifts by now. Dennis and Astoria each gave the other a package without making eye contact. Marcus gave Cynthia-

"A necktie?" she said, holding it up.

"Rabastian Lestrange was wearing it." said Marcus. "I enchanted it to strangle him to death."

"I love it." she said fondly.

Hermione gifted Marcus a copy of Simon Greenleaf's 'An Examination of the Testimony of the Evangelists'.

The line had formed in front of Cynthia again. She was thanking everyone in turn for their service to the cause. Diego pushed his way through the crowd, looking panicked. He walked up to Cynthia and leaned down to whisper in her ear. Her gentle smile deteriorated into sheer terror and she ran towards the mess hall.

Everyone followed after her. There was a bottle neck at the mess hall doors as they all tried to force their way inside. Marcus picked Raleigh up and sat him on his shoulders so he wouldn't get trampled.

Inside the cramped mess hall, Cynthia was standing on one of the tables looking up at the wall where the BBC World Service was always playing. Right now, it was broadcasting a battle. It was a mountain range in failing light of sunset. The landscape was riddled by the bright sparks from gunfire. Jets were flying around in the sky above. One of them exploded. Marcus didn't see the parachute for an ejecting pilot.

"_For those of you just joining us,_" came the voice of the reporter, "w_hat you are seeing is a skirmish between the Russian and Chinese armies. An oil pipeline that crosses the border between the two countries was attacked earlier today. The military was called in to facilitate reconstruction, but both sides cried foul and a skirmish broke out. No one is sure who fired the first shot, but now both sides are all in and we've been receiving reports that reinforcements are being called in. This fight is definitely going to escalate. In an official statement from the Russian Premier, he said that Russia will make any sacrifice to protect the nation's fuel reserves. We're getting scattered reports that South Korea and India are mobilizing-_"

And then a tank ran over the camera.

~o!o~

Boxing day, a thick coat of snow covered the courtyard. The stagnant air was bitterly cold. The Christmas decorations were gone. Cynthia was circling each of the concrete pillars, reading the cards that had been put up. By now, each column was twelve layers thick in memorial cards. Her console was pulled open to full size. The large flat screen floated in midair and followed her as she walked around. It was showing a live feed of the BBC World Service, which was covering a battle in Mongolia.

Marcus walked up to her from the warm shelter of the mess hall. He walked silently behind her, reading the memorial cards.

_ Felicity Kendal; December 11__th__ 1995; Beaten to death by a gang of snatchers._

_ Thomas Moore; December 18__th__ 1995; Shot with a killing curse._

_ Ben Maarten; December 20__th__ 1995; Eaten by Inferi._

Cynthia reached back and took Marcus's hand.

"Did I ever tell you about my Grandfather?" she asked.

"No, mother." said Marcus.

"He died during World War II." said Cynthia. "I never even met him."

"For which country did he fight?" asked Marcus.

"None of them." said Cynthia. "He was poisoned with Zyklon-B in the gas chambers at Auschwitz."

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks.

"He was a teacher." said Cynthia. "Mechanical Engineering. His son, my father, was imprisoned at Birkenau. He moved to Britain after the liberation by the Russians."

They were silent for a while, staring at the memorial cards.

"How bad is it?" Marcus asked quietly, glancing at the console screen.

"As bad as it can be." said Cynthia. "The governments that aren't actively fighting are scared and preparing their military. Everyone is armed to the teeth and panicking. It's going to tip over."

Marcus mulled this over.

"Mother." he said.

"Yes, dear one?"

"I'm scared." he admitted.

She put an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close.

"I am too," she admitted, "but this is no time for fear. Now is the time for faith and determination. We still have the plan and it's coming along well."

"I don't know what the Hell the plan even is!" said Marcus, breaking out of his mother's grasp.

"Maybe not," said Cynthia, "but you know me."

"No I don't!" Marcus cried, wheeling around to face her. "No one knows where you're going or what you're doing. You always used to take us with you. Even if work took you to the other side of the world, you always took us with you. What are you doing that's so dangerous you have to do it alone?"

He stalked off into the mess hall.

"I'm killing people." Cynthia said to the empty courtyard. "Innocent people. And my children will not be a part of that."


	52. The HMS Scrapmetal

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 9: The HMS Scrapmetal**

_"Everyone has a purpose. Sometimes it's as fertilizer."_

* * *

><p>"Good morning." said Dumbledore to the staff gathered in the Briefing room. All of the Monitors behind him were on. Cell worldwide were listening in. "As of yesterday, January 4th, The United Nations declared that there was a total break down in worldwide diplomacy. Every single country is engaged in a state of war. Many of the countries involved no longer have a working chain of command."<p>

"In addition to the international conflict, the MacBoons and McCliverts of different countries are taking advantage of the preoccupation of law enforcement to settle old scores leading to a lot of violence and rioting in civilian areas. National division has also become an issue. For example, in America, the South has risen again. Several states have seceded from the Union to form a new country following a disagreement with the President about sending troops to Brazil. Several African nations are devolving into conflict between the different tribes. For those of you familiar with the Rwandan Genocide, we can expect to see more of that. A lot more.

"Without fear of contradiction, I can say we are now involved in World War III."

"Do we know," asked the Spanish Delegate, "If it was Dark Wizards that started the initial battle? The one on the Chinese-Russian border."

"We don't know if any Dark Wizards were involved in the actual battle." said Li Fae, from the Chinese Cell. "But there's no question that they were involved in everything leading up to the war. They created an international environment of poverty and fear."

"The Germans are attacking our borders." said the woman from the French Cell.

"Sorry." said the German Cell.

"If the encroaching army stumbles upon our operation..." the French woman trailed off.

"If anyone encroaches on anything," said Diego, "they must be dealt with harshly."

"Diego!" said Dumbledore shocked.

"It's not their fault there's a war going on," said Diego resolutely, "but we've worked to hard to be stopped by some trigger happy jarhead."

"That jarhead is a person." said Dumbledore. "A person with loved ones."

"That person has a very short life expectancy if we don't finish the plan." said Diego. "Voldemort and his followers are decimating the world population and depleting their armaments so they can take over easily in the aftermath. It's the same gambit Grindelwald used in his rise to power. He controlled the Nazi regime and used them to start the last world war. You, Dumbledore, stopped him, and the war ended later that month. If we take Voldemort and the Death Eaters down no one else has to die."

"We cannot begin killing people who get in our way." said Dumbledore. "That's a line we do not cross."

"There are other options before that." Kingsley cut in. "Muggle repelling charms, obliviation, transfiguration."

"Yes, we'll jump off that bridge when we come to it." said Dumbledore. "The issue facing us now is how we proceed in the construction process. The draft is being called up. We have no construction workers. Materials are being rationed to build tanks and bombers and the like. We won't have anything to build with."

"That's not an issue on our end." said the Egyptian Cell. "We were just instructed to gather raw materials and we have enough scrap metal to repurpose. There's an abandoned airfield near our base."

"We are going to have some issues." said the woman of the Japanese Cell. "The machines we were instructed to build require precious metals as conductors."

"Muggle governments keep a copious supply of gold, silver, palladium, platinum and other elements." said the American. "We could easily break in to our Federal Reserve and get you all the material you need."

"Good, good." said Dumbledore. "Many hands make light work."

"The stadium isn't complete." said Fred. "We're going to need tons more steel, and that's just for starters."

"I think I have a solution." said McGonagall getting up. "A few months ago, Colin was prattling on to me about the mothball fleet off the coast of Scotland."

"A what?" asked Arthur.

"A mothball fleet." said McGonagall. "When the last war ended, Her Majesty had more warships than she need so many of them were anchored off the coast of Scotland and left sealed up and abandoned."

"Won't they be using them again, now that we're at war?" asked Tonks.

"No." said McGonagall. "No one has done maintenance on them in fifty years, their rusting through and through. Even if they were working perfectly, the technology their using is archaic. They'd be sitting ducks if you tried to use them in a battle."

"So, if we were to use these battleships as spare parts then no one would notice." said Diego.

"Not at first anyway." said McGonagall. "When they all disappear, then people might get suspicious."

"A good idea." said Dumbledore. "We can carve out the pieces we need and haul them to the Stadium in the Silvana."

"Actually," said McGonagall, rubbing her hands together. "I have an idea that might save us some time."

~o!o~

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Marcus asked for the tenth time that day. He was standing in a dinghy in the Atlantic ocean, staring at a rusting battleship. There were dozens of dinghies circling the battleship, each carrying a witch or wizard.

"Of course it's going to work." said McGonagall's voice in his ear. "It's a basic switching spell."

"A basic _big_ switching spell." added George Weasley's voice. They were all communicating via console, hands free feature.

"Two teams," McGonagall recapitulated her plan, "One in the stadium and one by the ship. Both teams perform a switching spell. The ocean team sends the ship to the stadium. The stadium team pulls it in from the ocean. It should get here without a hitch."

"You're sure?" asked Marcus.

"Yes, Montefiore." said McGonagall. "I once saw the same method used to transport an Elephant to the other side of Mt. Kilamanjaro. The bulk of the wizards working together more than makes up for the extra volume."

"But we all have to work in unison." said Dumbledore. "That means everyone casts the switching spell at exactly the same time."

"On the count of three." said McGonagall. "One...Two..."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Marcus.

"CAST THE DAMN SPELL!"

"_Alcatacla!_" Marcus incanted.

~o!o~

Marcus stood between Fred and George. They were all back at the construction site, making an appraisal of the battleship. Marcus cocked his head to one side. Then the other.

"No matter how I look at it," said Marcus, "I can't see a ship."

"At least all of it got here." said George. "We only needed it for the metal anyway."

"It looks like it got here by passing through the Sun." said Fred.

"I wonder what happened to the elephant." said Marcus.

"I hope it didn't suffer." said George.

They saw Mundungus slashing at the hull with his wand. Chunks came off and were carried away by others to the unfinished parts of the stadium.

Marcus and the twins went up to the ship to pitch in. Marcus started by carving square chunks out of the mass, but got bored and moved on to star shapes and octagons. As each piece fell off, someone would run up to grab it.

"We didn't get all of it, you know." said Marcus.

"What do you mean?" asked Fred.

"Most of the ship vanished when we cast the switching spells, but parts of it stayed behind and sunk under the ocean." said Marcus. "Not all of the parts that disappeared made the trip. A gun turret dropped on a house in Burwick-upon-Tweed."

"Ouch." said George. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No," said Marcus, "and the house has a new chimney."

"Colin!" they heard McGonagall shout. "We do not carve those into _anything_!"

~o!o~

Cynthia's footsteps echoed around the huge chamber. It was a hanger; the hanger all the hangars dreamed about being some day; one you cold _fly_ an airplane inside. The floor was covered in dozens of rows of huge, seemingly identical, structures, each covered by a tarpaulin. Cynthia looked down the row and couldn't even see where it ended.

She stepped up to one of the structures and and swept the tarpaulin off. She revealed what looked like a white capsule pill the size of a city bus. She walked along the capsule, running her fingers along the outer shell. Midway through, she came across a section where the outer panel was missing. The interior was like looking into a dissection.

It was full of boxes of black plastic, like mini PCs, held in place by the titanium framework that honeycombed the structure. Cynthia could just make out the corner of a circuit board through the whole made by a ventilation fan. There were wires running between different boxes, connecting them. Hoses filled with blue, green, and red liquids snaked their way around the components. The machine hand bones, organs, nerves, and veins, like a real living thing.

Other footsteps were echoing around the cavernous hanger. A group of men in white jumpsuits came around one of the still covered machines. They were led by Satoshi Tajiri, head of the Japanese Cell.

"Chairwoman Montefiore." he said, giving a bow. "We did not know you where here."

"I'm here on other business." said Cynthia, not turning away from the machine. "How are they coming?"

"We're producing them much faster now." said Tajiri. "We've been making individual, simpler modules and linking them together until we get the processing power we need. They are all up to your specifications."

"Do you need any more materials?" asked Cynthia.

"No." said Tajiri. "The American Cell provides us with all the precious metals we need."

"How are they performing on the simulations?" asked Cynthia.

"Each one performs perfectly or we rebuild it." said Tajiri. "Most of them are ready to install the operating system."

"I'll have the Indian Cell send it along directly." said Cynthia.

"When they're ready," said Tajiri, "They'll be the most powerful supercomputers in the world, and the only ones to use Magic Tech."

"Yes, you've done good work." said Cynthia. "You should all be very proud."

They all shifted uncomfortably. One of them nudged Tajiri.

"What is it you're planning on using them _for_?" Tajiri asked. "It has no end of applications, certainly, but I don't see how it could bring down the Dark Wizards."

"Alone, it can't" said Cynthia. She walked along until she reached the far end of the capsule where there was a huge port built into the shell, meant for some kind of giant cable. "It can think for something that can."

She looked down the row at the endless march of identical capsules. "_Lots_ of things that can."


	53. Horcrux

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 10: Horcrux**

_"Tamper with the deepest mysteries - the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind." -The First of Adalbert Waffling's Fundamental Laws of Magic_

* * *

><p>Marcus, Ron, and Draco were rifling through drawers in Dumbledore's office in the bastion. He had enough filing cabinets filled with junk and stray papers to make any hoarder happy for a lifetime. The ceiling was covered in maps that were dotted with pushpins and lengths of colored string. On the desk, he was using his console as a coaster. Old dogs...<p>

"They must be in here somewhere." said Draco. "Dumbledore was the one who confiscated all the firewhiskey. I heard him telling Arthur that he'd crack open all the bottles when the war was over."

"Why do you want to get drunk again?" asked Marcus. "Considering the beat down you got the last time you were soused."

"Because Valentines day is coming up and I'm dateless for the sixteenth straight year." said Ron.

"And I'm Ginny-less for the forty-eighth straight day." said Draco.

"Maybe you two lonely people should hook up for Valentines day." said Marcus.

"You're disgusting." said Ron.

"You have to keep your options open." said Marcus. "A light supper, candle light, dancing, who knows where it might lead?"

"It's going to lead to me killing you with fire." said Ron.

"And I'll burn the corpse." said Draco.

The door opened. They all dropped what they were rifling through and spun around. Harry stood in the door way, wondering what was going on.

"You scared us." said Ron, relaxing. "We thought you were Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore asked me to meet him in here." said Harry. "He should be here any minute."

Marcus turned back to the drawers and started pushing them back in. Ron and Draco did the same. They all made a dash for a the door, but stopped when they heard footsteps.

"Dumbledore, hi!" said Harry, looking down the hall for them. "What did you want to talk about?"

Marcus looked wildly around the room for somewhere to hide. He remembered his invisibility cloak in his back pocket, and pulled it out. The three of them hurriedly cramed themselves in one of the corners and covered themselves with the invisibility cloak. It was a tight fit, but they could manage it if none of them moved, or breathed.

"Harry, my boy," said Dumbledore walking into the office. "I'm afraid we have something very serious to discuss." He sat behind his desk and Harry took the seat in front of him.

"If this is about me and Hermione, I swear we're very careful." said Harry.

"No!" said Dumbledore, holding up his hands. "Not that. Never that. Ever."

Dumbledore reached into his desk and pulled out some items. Marcus could see a golden cup, a book, and a locket.

"I remember these." said Harry. "They glowed when I touched them."

"How did you feel afterward?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry shrugged.

"Like I was...more." said Harry. "Like I had found something I didn't even know I lost."

Dumbledore pursed his lips in thought.

"Harry," he began, "are you aware of what a Horcrux is?"

"No, sir." said Harry. "I only ever heard it mentioned once when we were studying Golems."

"A Horcrux is an item of powerful dark magic." began Dumbledore. "It contains a fraction of a persons soul. Someone puts a part of their soul in a physical item to keep themselves anchored to the world of the living. If their body dies, the Horcrux keeps them on Earth."

"They'd live forever?" asked Harry.

"Yes and no." said Dumbledore. "The state they'd be in after their body died would be less than the meanest ghost, the merest whisper of a person. Death would be preferable."

"Is that how Voldemort stayed alive?" asked Harry. "He made a Horcrux?"

"Yes." answered Dumbledore.

"Does mom have one?" asked Harry.

"Cynthia?" asked Dumbledore. "No. She wouldn't do that. To make a Horcrux, you need a sliver of soul. This goes against the fundamental nature of the soul. It is meant to be whole. When you create a Horcrux, it makes the rest of your soul highly unstable."

"That's why Voldemort is so nasty?" asked Harry.

"We'll never know for sure." answered Dumbledore. "In order to fracture a soul you need to commit the supreme act of evil: murder. I wouldn't put it past Cynthia to kill someone in a fair fight, but cold blooded murder is beyond her. Even if it wasn't, her behavior is that of a typical human. She smiles when she sees her children. She cries when she sees the Memorial Pillars. She lays awake at night staring at her ceiling wondering how she got into this mess. Love, sadness, confusion; all the earmarks of the human condition.

"Voldemort is afraid to die. He made more than one Horcrux. He's pushed his soul to the very limits. He's walking on existential thin ice. Cynthia confirmed that these objects," he indicated the items he pulled out, "were carriers for his soul once. At least, they were before you touched them."

"They aren't anymore?" asked Harry.

"What happened the night Voldemort died is a mystery to everyone." said Dumbledore. "The interesting attributes of your scar gives us a clue. There is a part of him in you. Without meaning to, he gave you the ability to interact with his other Horcruxes."

"What do you mean 'part of him in me'?" asked Harry, looking horrified. "I don't want Voldemort in me!"

"That's perfectly understandable." said Dumbledore. "But never having studied the art I don't know how far the effect extends or why you can even do what you do. All we an be sure of is that after you touch a Horcrux, it looses all its power."

Dumbledore reached into another drawer and pulled out a Locket he was holding up with a pair of tongs.

"We have confirmed that this locket is another Horcrux." he said. "Harry, I don't have all the answers. I'm not even sure if I'm asking the right questions. What I do know is: one less Horcrux is a good thing."

Harry hesitantly reached out for the locket. When his fingers brushed it, it glowed brightly. The maimed fragment of Voldemort's soul flew out of the locket and into Harry's body.

~o!o~

That evening, The Fifth House was seated at their usual table. Harry had shared what happened with Hermione. Everyone was very quiet. Marcus pushed the lasagna around on his plate without any intention of every eating it.

Hermione had a sketchbook out and was doodling something. Marcus looked over to see a sketch of the stadium, with small annotations.

"What are you working on?" Marcus asked.

"I want to figure out what the stadium does." said Hermione. "The magical contracts can't smite us for what we figure out."

It seemed very risky to Marcus, but he was as curious as anyone.

"The spires are hollow." he said. "Their full of outlets, so I think we're going to put something in there."

"There are these huge wires going around the building." said Draco. "They meet up here." he pointed to an area between the two North spires. "It's not as big as the spires are. It's about the size of a long truck."

"The whole complex is full of Magic Tech machines." said Harry. "I don't know what they're for."

"Nor I." admitted Hermione. "All we know is they're going to cast spells."

"Not necessarily." said Draco. "The other day I saw Diego putting together what was definitely a long range sensor."

"I saw the twins carry a radio receiver up to one of the spires a few days ago." offered Ron.

"Right." said Hermione. "So what we're building can cast spells, see things, and communicate across vast distances."

"It's a bigger Bastion." said Ron. "This one will be offensive. We'll be able to fire death rays at the Death Eaters from miles away."

"That makes sense." said Draco. "Do you think the other Cells are doing the same thing?"

"Sure." said Ron. "We'll be able to defeat the Dark Wizards through superior firepower. We'll use the new bastion to drive them back and we'll extend the borders of the safe zone slowly."

"Muggles can start running their governments from within the safe zones and they can reach a diplomatic solution to the war." said Hermione.

"They'd better work fast." said Marcus. "It's only been a month and the death toll in in the millions already."

"There are thousands of feet of cable and just as many machines. All of it runs on magical energy." said Hermione. "There aren't that many witches and wizards in the bastion. How are we going to power this thing?"

~o!o~

On the bottom of the world, Antarctica, a polar bear loped along the icy plane. This was very strange, because polar bears are indigenous to the Arctic.

It stopped suddenly and started digging through the ice. It's claws scraped against metal. It stopped digging and knocked on the metal plate. There was a grinding sound and the ice it was standing on started moving. A few feet away a long, straight crack formed on the ice. The crack widened steadily as the sheet of ice slid aside, revealing a large chamber below.

The polar bear looked up into the air expectantly. In the sky above, the long white hull of the Exile drifted down into the cavern. As the deck drew level with the polar bear, it took a running leap and landed on the ship. It rode the Exile down into the hangar like an elevator. The Exile came to a halt and there was a small thump as the hull made contact with the floor and came to a rest. The huge door overhead began to make it's way back into place.

The polar bear took another jump and landed on the cold steel floor below. It sat down on it's haunches and surveyed the ship. A section of the hull slid open and a ramp came down to the floor. At the same time, a section of the wall in the hanger slid open, revealing a brightly lit hallway.

A pair of what looked like glass coffins came floating out of the ship down the ramp. They were joined together and each lid bore a red serial number. Each glass coffin had a person in it. The polar bear watched the steady march of hibernating people. They came from every nation, and every walk of life. All ages and every race. All going down the hall, two by two.

Eventually, the last unit came off the Exile and the hull closed up again. The polar bear got up and sauntered to the other side of the hangar. A different door slid open to an antechamber and the polar bear crawled inside, filling up the whole space. The door slid shut behind it, and there was a hissing sound from the vents. The polar bear felt the temperature of the room go up.

The polar bear shrank and the fir retracted into it's body. After several anatomical contortions, there was a woman standing in it's place. A different door slid open, revealing two men in lab coats.

"Welcome back to Vostok, Chairwoman." said Dr. Laurel.

The three of them walked down the underground corridor. The entire complex was heated and powered by tapping into the energy from the volcano underneath the ice caps. In this frozen wasteland, they were able to live very comfortably. Cynthia came here very regularly; whenever she had a full ship. Today she was delivering 12 pairs of Philia, 15 pairs of Storge, and 11 pairs of Agape.

"We just birthed five new whales." said Dr. Laurel. "Two of them are already fully mature."

They came to another door that slid open to admit them. The new room was the same dimensions as the hangar, but the floor was a pool. A walkway extended across the water. Cynthia walked to the middle and looked down into the hundred foot deep pool. She could see a dark shape floating passively. It's body had glowing patches that moved slowly as it rolled in the still water.

"This one still has more to grow." said Dr. Laurel, indicating the creature that was nearly as long as the hangar sized pool.

"What's the magical output on the mature ones?" asked Cynthia.

"Eight TerraThaums." said Dr. Laurel. "Each. Consistent with the other specimens we've already grown. At the cellular level they each have a high Belfast Apparatus count. Their sheer size doesn't hurt matters."

"Eight TerraThaums still isn't enough, though." said Cynthia.

Dr. Laurel sagged.

"But you said-"

"Eight TerraThaums is all I need from _you_." said Cynthia. "I have ways of magnifying a modicum of power. How close are you to quota?"

"We only need thirteen more." said Dr. Laurel. "We'll be finished within a month."

"Excellent." said Cynthia. She had been hearing the same thing from all the Cells she'd been visiting: In spite of set backs, the schedule was being maintained. The plan would be finished soon.

"I need fifty eight whales." she said turning to leave the room. "Get them ready to be sent in two at a time to the Chamber of Repose, same as always. As usual, make sure no one is in that part of the lab."

"Yes, Chairwoman." said Dr. Laurel, as he wondered for the millionth time what the Chamber's purpose was. Every time Cynthia arrived they went in two at a time, they came out two at a time, and no matter which way he measured them, he couldn't find a difference. All Cynthia would tell him was make sure that pair always stayed together from then on.


	54. The Devil's Playground

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 11: The Devil's Playground  
><strong>

"_When people fall into danger, they are then able to strive for victory."_

* * *

><p>Marcus, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Draco, The Creevey brothers, and the Greengrass sisters surveyed the playground.<p>

"Whoever designed this must have really hated children." said Daphne.

"And wanted them to die of blood poisoning." added Colin.

"It's like the Marquis De Sade took up architecture." said Hermione.

They were on a relief mission. They had finished repairing the water supply to a tenement building and had stumbled upon a nearby park. The jungle gym looked like someone had just dragged the charred remains of a freeway accident into the playground. There was nothing left of the swing set but a dangling chain from a metal strut. There was a merry-go-round that wouldn't even spin around if the park was visited by a hurricane.

"You know," said Ron, "We have some time left before we have to check back in."

"We couldn't just leave it like this." said Draco. "It's a safety hazard."

"It's our duty to human kind to remove the offensive blight from the landscape." added Marcus.

They pulled out their wands and got to work. Normally, the work they did was entirely functional. Repairing a playground was a chance to show off.

Hermione and Harry got to work on the jungle gym. The metal contorted and morphed into a fairytale castle decorated in pastels.

Marcus and Ron repaired the rusted axle of the merry-go-round. It spun like a top. As an added bonus, they decorated it with a rocket ship theme.

Draco helped the Creevey and Greengrass siblings build the new swing set. They were twenty feet tall. With padded seats.

While Ron was 'testing' the merry-go-round, Marcus focused on the trees surrounding the playground. He used some of the charms Neville had taught him to extend the canopy over the playground. That way the children would be shaded. The sunlight was warmer these days. The branches were sprouting new leaves. The long dark winter was over, and spring had begun.

Back at the stadium, construction was nearly complete. For the first time, in a long time, they could see light at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly, everyone ran past him and hid behind a tree.

"School children are coming!" yelled Draco.

"They'll never find you there." said Marcus, taking a seat on a bench. "Just act casual."

A teacher was leading a group of primary school children down the path. They all stopped short when they saw the new playground. The next second, they all went buck wild and charged.

Watching children play was very therapeutic. Even with a world war going on, even with the death toll passing a billion, you could hardly believe there was anything wrong in the world when you watched children playing.

Then the merry-go-round exploded. The children were thrown into the air. One of them flew toward Marcus who jumped to catch her. Cradling the crying girl, he looked around for the source of the attack. He heard a cackling laugh from the castle. He looked up to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing on top of the spire.

Hermione charged forward and back flipped onto the jungle gym. She started throwing a volley of curses at Bellatrix. Harry ran off to help the woman he loved, but Marcus was more preoccupied with the Dementors flying in through the tree tops.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" shouted Marcus. A small silvery tortoise appeared on the ground in front of him. It may be the silliest patronus ever, but those Dementors were blown away like dried leaves.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" He heard from behind him. He threw himself on the ground, careful not to crush the girl he was still holding. He looked up to see more Death Eaters coming through the trees.

Did these people really have nothing better to do than attack a playground?

Draco and Ron took on the new wave of Death Eaters. Marcus was about to join them but saw the ruins of the merry-go-round. He had just fixed that thing and, by God, it was going to make itself useful! He levitated it into mid air and it started spinning wildly. The disc flew at the next wave of Death Eaters and cut them down. Well, in half.

A hulking blond Death Eater with no chin started shooting hexes at him.

"You filthy Mudblood!" he spat.

"I'm a pureblood." said Marcus, bouncing the spells away.

"Oh." said the Death Eater. "You filthy Bloodtraitor!" he yelled. Marcus waited for an opening, then set his hair on fire.

He didn't have much time to relish the victory. The next second, Dennis went flying overhead and landed heavily in a gooseberry bush.

He looked over to where he had been blasted from to see Bellatrix holding Astoria by her hair. Bellatrix Disapparated, taking Astoria with her.

"_Incarcerous_!" yelled Hermione, taking down the last remaining Death Eater. The rest of the Death Eaters were lying around unconscious, or in half. There were several smaller bodies on the ground, not all of the children had gotten away.

"Marcus!" cried Draco, pulling a crying Daphne to her feet. "We have to get back to the Bastion!"

Marcus took one last look at the decimated remains of the playground. The merry-go-round was lodged in a tree trunk. The castle was melting in the flames of the Fiendfyre. He looked down at the little girl that he still had clutched in his arm. Her empty, unblinking eyes stared back at him from her corpse.

~o!o~

Everyone in the Hogwarts Bastion was gathered in the courtyard. Dumbledore stood on one of the concrete pillars and addressed the crowd below.

"The abduction of Astoria Greengrass is a tragedy to be sure." he said, his voice magically amplified. "But I can assure you we are in no immediate danger. Astoria was not a secret keeper for either the Bastion or Islænfąrn. She was always Apparated by a third party to both locations. She had no idea where we even are."

"What about the Stadium!" someone shouted from the crowd. The rest of the crowd erupted in renewed panic.

"Astoria was never at the construction site!" Dumbledore yelled over the crowd. "And I know none of you told her about it!"

Everyone looked between themselves. It was true, no one could have said anything with the contracts in effect. If they had so much as mentioned it was a construction project to someone who wasn't clued in, their skin would have started burning off.

"I understand you still have concerns." said Dumbledore, to the now subdued crowd. "Since muggle construction workers are no longer an issue, I along with my colleagues are going to put a protective barrier around the Stadium until the crisis is resolved, if then."

The crowd started to dissipate, their panic subsiding.

"This is terrible." said Hermione. "Why now? We're so close to being done. How could we have let this happen?"

"We didn't _let _this happen." said Marcus. "We fought tooth and nail, risking life and limb."

"We've come all this way and we're about to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory." Hermione continued.

"Get a grip." said Draco. "Panicking won't help matters. Astoria didn't know anything, so she can't tell them anything. She'll probably just tell them she was kidnapped or imperiused. She's one of them. They'll treat her like a queen."

"It wasn't your fault." said Harry. Hermione rested her forehead against one of the pillars. Her shoulders started to shake slightly. Harry pulled her into a hug.

Marcus turned away to give them a moment. He wanted to find Diego to see if he could help with the protective enchantments around the stadium.

"Marcus!" someone yelled.

He turned to see Colin running up to him with Daphne in tow. She was holding on tightly to his hand. When did this happen?

"Dennis is gone!" said Colin.

"Where?" asked Marcus.

"I think he went to rescue Astoria." said Daphne, her voice strangled with tears.

"What?" said Marcus, utterly confused. "That brave, selfless imbecile. Where does he think they're keeping her? What is he just going to stroll into the Minister for Magic's house and demand they hand her over?"

~o!o~

In the dungeons below Malfoy Manor, a pop went off in the darkness.

"Thank you, Dobby." said Ron. "You're free to go."

"Is Master sure?" asked Dobby.

"No." said Ron. "Now, clear off before I come to my senses."

There was another pop.

"Are you sure Dennis is here?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Marcus, "if typical Gryffindor stupidity is anything to go by."

"Hey!" said Draco and Ginny.

"_Homenum Revelioi._" said Hermione. She paused, and then: "There's only one person here." she said. "Two floors up."

"That makes things easier." said Draco. "_Terronarossa_!"

"No!" they all yelled, but it was too late. The ground they were standing on was already shooting upward. Marcus barely had time to throw up a shield before they broke through the ceiling. A grand entrance hall was vaguely visible before they crashed through the next level of the building. They came to a stop on the second floor in what looked like a dining hall.

"I knew," coughed Marcus, stepping down onto the floor, "it was a bad idea for mother to teach you that-"

The words died in his throat. Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, was leaning over the dining table, running a wet cloth over the face of Astoria Greengrass. She didn't seem to have noticed them breaking through her floor.

Astoria's body was lying naked on the table. Most of her skin was missing. The patches that remained were red with blood. Her face was clean from Narcissa's ministrations. She looked peaceful, like she had gone to sleep after a long day.

Laying next to her was a blackened skeleton. They all knew it was Dennis. Marcus walked up to the table. He reached out and took Dennis's skeleton hand.

"They never said anything." said Narcissa in a tremulous voice. She was still focused on cleaning the blood off of Astoria. As if under all the carnage was still the happy smiling girl just waiting to come out, "_He_ was here. He did...such terrible things, but they still never said anything. No matter what he did to them, they never..." she trailed off.

They had been tortured to death. By Voldemort, himself. And they still hadn't given them up. Marcus willed himself not to cry, but traitorous tears streamed down his face, and he clutched the hand tighter.

"This isn't what I wanted to fight for." said Narcissa, sobbing openly. "I've lost my son and I've watched more people die than I've ever met living. I'm ashamed of the part I played in making this new world."

Marcus let go of the hand and turned to leave. He wanted to Apparate as far away as possible; All the way off of planet Earth if he could manage it.

"He saw something." said Narcissa. "He used Legilimency, but all he saw was...he said it was a crown. Then they all left."

Marcus stopped. Yes, that was what it looked like, wasn't it. The ring shape, the spires, the Stadium looked like a giant crown. He pulled out his console and started typing a message to Diego while he ran out of the house. He heard the others running behind him as they dashed to the edge of the Anti-Disapparation barrier.

The Stadium, their last great hope, was about to be attacked. If it wasn't being destroyed already.


	55. Cynthia's Last Stand

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 12:**** Cynthia's Last Stand**

"_Never have so many owed so much to so few."_

* * *

><p>The City of London was on fire. Every city block seemed to be belching smoke and glowing with embers. In the center of the destruction, stood the Royal Olympic Stadium, it's six proud spires jutting out of the landscape like horns. It was surrounded with a shield of magic being maintained by the resistance inside. Outside the shield, thousands of Death Eaters were pelting the shield with curses that would turn the foundations of the Earth to rubble.<p>

The Fifth House watched this unfold from a nearby roof. Marcus could tell the shield wouldn't last much longer. He wasn't sure what to do. Part of him wanted to take his friends, and run and hide. A more determined part of him wanted to kill Death Eaters. Really make them suffer.

He could see the HMAS Silvana from where they were. It was crashed into the side of a building, a giant smoking hole in the hull were the scatter shot of curses had finally gotten lucky.

"What do we do?" asked Hermione next to him.

He didn't say anything. He didn't know the answer. What _could _you do in the face of so much destruction? He could see from their vantage point that the resistance had gathered in the center of the Stadium, they were making a rudimentary wall out of the supplies they hadn't used yet. They wouldn't dare use the walls of the Stadium to block fire. That Stadium was their only hope. From what Marcus could see, that hope had died. They were all just hanging on to a dream. As it stood, they couldn't even get through the shield to join them. They were out here alone with countless Death Eaters.

"I have a promise to keep," said Draco, stepping forward until he was right on the edge of the roof. "I promised someone that the war would end and we would do something special."

"Yeah!" said Ginny, stepping up beside him. "To Hell with this being defeated shit. I'm going to kill all of them and live to tell about it!"

"Save some for me." said Ron, stepping up beside them.

"We want in on this, too." said Harry, as he and Hermione took their place on the edge.

Marcus stood up next to them.

"Raleigh will be proud of me." he said. "Mother will think I was a bloody idiot, but Raleigh will be proud of me."

They all joined hands. Hermione squeezed his hand painfully tight, but he relished the sensation. It was going to be his last one.

"I guess this is the 'later' we've been looking forward to." said Ron. "Where we'll be dead."

They all jumped off the roof. They flew through the air for a few hundred feet and landed right in the middle of a crowd of Death Eaters. Marcus made sure his heel came down right on the wizards nose and impacted back into his brain.

The six of them all stood back to back facing outwards and shot out all the spells they could think of in desperation. At first, the surprised Death Eaters were dropping like flies, but then they rallied and went on the offensive. It was all Marcus could do just to block the incoming spells. The Death Eaters made a circle around them that slowly closed in, like darkness encroaching on a dying star. Marcus could see every wart on the face of the leering witch in front of him.

This was, as they say, it. In mere seconds they would close the remaining distance and-

He was flying through the air. He must have died. It didn't even hurt. He saw Ginny, Harry and Hermione flying alongside him. At least he wouldn't have to make the trip alone. Then the pain came as he made contact with hard ground. He heard thumps and grunts as his friends landed roughly around him.

"What did you think suicide was going to accomplish?" asked Cynthia. "Bad guys do not surrender from touching sacrificial gestures."

Marcus looked up to his Mother. She was standing in front of them, on the deck of the HMAS Exile. He had never actually seen it before. She was the secret keeper and had never actually told him about it. Now he was crouched on its deck, very alive.

He ran over to the railing and looked down at the battle below Cynthia had flown into the Stadium. The shield had gone down, Death Eaters had gotten inside and formed a ring around the resistance huddled in the middle, all of whom were fighting for their life's worth.

Marcus raised his wand. A lighting bolt down their nostril would set them straight.

"Don't." said Cynthia grabbing his arm. "If you give away our position, we can't deliver the payload."

"What payload?" asked Hermione. "You're going to bomb them? Our people are down there! Diego is down there!"

"No one is bombing anyone." said Cynthia. "We're here."

The Exile was hovering right between the two north pillars. A section of the hull opened. At the same time, the stadium roof below slid aside. Marcus looked down to see a white capsule the size of a school bus come out of the ship and drop into the hole below. It slowed down as it reached the structure and inserted itself gently. When it was securely inside, the panel slid back in place.

"The main control module is in place. Now, the tricky bit." said Cynthia, opening a duffel bag. She pulled out what looked like a giant skeleton key. It was made of what looked like black obsidian. Its design was Gothic and spiky.

"This one is yours, Marcus." she said, handing it to him.

He grabbed it by the hilt. He felt a warmth in his finger tips and a sensation of power flowing down his arm. He looked down at the key. The word 'OBLIVION' was embossed on the hilt.

She handed the same giant keys to the others, each a different style. Hermione's looked like blue green spun glass. Ron's looked like it was made of curling flames. Harry's looked like black and white porcelain. Draco's looked like it was made of welded cogs. Ginny's was decorated with stars.

"What are these?" asked Hermione.

"They're wands." answered Cynthia. "The first wands with a hundred percent Synchro rate. I have dubbed them Keyblades. It should be very catchy if we survive."

"We could win with these!" said Ron.

"We will." said Cynthia. "But not by just attacking the Death Eater Army. I need you all to do exactly as I tell you."

"Yes, ma'am." they said in unison.

"I need you each to pick a different Spire." she said. "Go to the very top. Don't use up any magic to get there, you'll need it for what comes next.

"When you get to the top you'll find a keyhole. Put the Keyblade inside and let your magic flow into the machine. Then just wait."

"Wait for what?" asked Marcus.

"You'll know." said Cynthia. "I'll buy us some time. Voldemort and I need to have a nice long heart to heart chat."

"Mother..." said Marcus.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." she said, putting her hand on his cheek. "Everything is going to be alright. Everything is _definitely _going to be alright."

"Now go!" she said.

Harry, Hermione, and Marcus jumped off one side of the ship, while the rest jumped off the other. The three of them took off to the nearest spire.

~o!o~

Diego was dueling three Death Eaters at once. They weren't powerful or nimble with their wands, but they were a few in a long line of people he had battled and still had to face. The group had broken and there were fights all over the field. There was no way to tell which witch was which. Every combatant had gotten lost in the crowd of fighters, there was no clear line between our side and theirs. It was a murderous clusterfuck.

Diego took out two of the Death Eaters, but another three took their place.

But those three were struck by lightning. Lighting started striking down all over the field, people started running for cover. Some of the Death Eaters started firing curses randomly into the air, the same method they used to bring down the Silvana. They were all blown away by a concussion wave that exploded from the middle of the field.

When the dust settled, there was Cynthia, standing defiant on top of a gun turret carved out of the HMS Scrapmetal.

"Can I have your attention, please!" she shouted, her voice magically amplified. "I'm looking for a guy named Tom Riddle! He's about this tall! Bald! Answers to Voldemort!"

There was dead silence on the once chaotic field. One lone figure moved in the crowd. Lord Voldemort stepped out in plain view.

"You wish to surrender?" he asked amicably. Some of his cronies grunted in laughter.

"You and me, Voldemort." she said. "To the death. It all ends tonight."

"Agreed." said Voldemort.

And they dueled.

~o!o~

Marcus and Harry raced along the edge of the filed along the inner wall of the Stadium. Hermione had gone up the first spire they passed. They dodged and jumped over the debris that littered the construction site. Finally, they passed the next Spire. Harry turned away and ran inside.

Marcus continued running. He couldn't hear the fight any more. It sounded like only a few people were still battling, maybe only two.

His legs already burned, and he still had to run up the stairs to the top of the spire. The tower loomed ahead of him, but it didn't seem to get any closer no matter how hard he ran. Finally, he was at the base of the Spire.

Without stopping for breath, he ran inside. He looked around the giant cavity inside the spire for a staircase or a ladder. He saw a chain that led up to a winch at the very top. It was holding a pallet of welding tools left behind by the muggle construction workers. He grabbed hold of the taught chain and traced the end back to a hook that held it to a steel strut. Doubling his grip, he kicked the hook with all the strength he had left and it lost it's hold on the strut. The weight of the pallet hundreds of feet in the air pulled him up as it fell down to Earth. He narrowly missed hitting it as they passed at the half way point.

He heard a crash below him and the chain stopped moving. He still had another twenty feet to go. He swung over to the nearest platform. From there he followed the walkway to a ladder that led to a room in the very peak of the spire.

He finally pulled himself up into the room and looked around for the keyhole mother had told them about. The sides of the apex chamber were made of glass. He could see the burning city from here as well as the duel going on down below.

Finally, he found it. There, on the floor was a keyhole. He held up the Keyblade and lowered it gently into the slot. The fate of everyone he loved rested on him not breaking anything. There was a dull snap as it locked into place. He felt a small amount of magic leaving him. Above him, there was a bright green light. He looked up to see that it was a beacon glowing on the tip of the spire. He looked out across to the other spires. Each one of them was shinning it's own color. They had all made it.

Now they had to wait.

Not for long as it turned out.

Marcus heard it before he saw it. A persistent thrumming behind him. He turned to see a fleet of blimps approaching from the south. Six of them. Each a different color.

The green one stopped directly overhead. The others carried on to different spires. An electric bolt shot between the green blimp and the spire Marcus was in.

Then it all changed. Marcus felt the magic rushing out of his body, down the Keyblade. It felt like he was being sucked out of himself the flow of magic was so heavy. The whole spire started to tilt back. As the floor beneath him angled, he held onto the Keyblade for dear life. He looked down to see that the spire was actually splitting open, like a giant flower, exposing the cavity inside.

Above him, the bottom of the blimp opened up. Something started dropping out of it. Marcus recalled the giant capsule that his mother had deposited earlier. This was much bigger. It was a huge glass pod with some..._thing_ inside of it.

As it descended into the cavity below it passed by Marcus. It was a blue whale. Yet, it wasn't. It had huge solid black eyes. It's fins were like long glowing gossamer shrouds that trailed behind it. There were luminescent crystals growing out of its back. It was clearly magical, but Marcus had never even _heard_ of such a thing before, let alone see one.

The whale finally settled into the cavity below. The spire began closing back around it. Marcus looked below him to see the outlets lining the spire, the ones he had watched Fred and George put together, spring to life. Hundreds of wires sprung out of each one and attached to the sides of the capsule.

With a resounding clang, the Spire was sealed up again. The key hole spit out his Keyblade and Marcus fell backward onto the floor. Above him, he saw the beacon change from green to white light.

He felt utterly drained. He didn't think there was an ounce of strength left in him, magic or otherwise. His body ached from the run to the spire. His magic was depleted from powering the spire.

He reached down deep inside of him, searched hard, and found one drop of magic left. He focused his thoughts on the battle below.

~o!o~

Marcus Apparated between two Death Eaters on the field below. They didn't take any notice of him. They were focused on the duel. Marcus used the Keyblade as a crutch to prop himself up. He saw his mother dueling the most terrible dark wizard who ever lived.

He looked up to the other spires. They were still open, their beacons hadn't changed to white light. He must have finished before they did.

There were still 5 left.

Cynthia shot a spell at the ground and several stone soldiers shot up out of the earth and rushed Voldemort.

4 left.

Voldemort conjured up a storm of meteorites that rained down on Cynthia.

3 left.

Cynthia shot giant spears of ice at Voldemort.

2 left.

The shadows around Cynthia came to life and started constricting around her.

1 left.

Cynthia made a concussion wave that pushed the darkness back.

The last beacon finally glowed white.

"Finally." said Cynthia, snapping her fingers.

Voldemort froze, stock still in mid-curse.

"_Petrificus Totalus_." Cynthia said. Voldemort's arms and legs snapped to his side and he fell over, stiff as a board.

A dark woman in a red dress walked up to Cynthia from the edges of the stunned crowd. Marcus recognized her as Isabella Cervantes, leader of the Spanish Pureblood Supremacy Movement.

"You were right after all Voldemort." accepting something from Cervantes. "It is important for blood to be pure." Cervantes gave a bow and Apparated away. Cynthia held up the item Cervantes had handed her. It was a Keyblade. It didn't look like much; little more than steel rebar welded together, but when she swung I around. The entire audience was blown back fifty feet.

The crowd picked themselves up. Some of them watched in fascination. Some tried to run away.

Cynthia made complicated motions with her Keyblade. Marcus could hear her incanting.

"_Invoco virtuto solis et stellarum_."

There was a rushing gale that filled the stadium. The wizards cloaks whipped around everywhere like leaves caught in a hurricane.

"_Sub Terra dormienten excitare potest._"

It looked like electric currents were running over the surface of the Stadium. Marcus could hear the sounds of cracking and bending. The outer panels of the stadium were melding to form a solid layer that completely enclosed the structure.

"_Pulsus Capistrum torupus et fluxum est aestus._"

Cynthia's whole body was glowing. Her voice had taken on a haunting, resonant timbre.

"_Passio Ignis_!" she pointed her Keyblade at one of the spires. A bolt of magic jumped between the tower to a spot directly overhead.

"_Roborante Fulgur_!" she pointed her Keyblade to a different spire. Another bolt jumped to the center of the stadium, connecting with the first bolt.

"_Fideles Terrae! Nutrit Aquis! Errastem Ventorum! Profundum Abyssus!_" she pointed to each of the other spires. The bolts of magic from each of them connected in midair at the same point, like the spokes of a giant wheel.

"_Mirari Impetu!_" Cynthia cried, pointing her Keyblade at the nexus directly overhead. There was a low, rising hum. The energy twisted and spun and grew, like a star being born.

Cynthia raised both arms up to the heavens.

"_Solve Coruna Corona Mothafucka_!" she yelled.

Marcus was fairly sure that last part was optional.

Then the star exploded, and everything was washed away in a tide of light.


	56. Between Here and There

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 13:**** Between Here and There**

"_The Dead cannot be brought back. That's why life is so precious. And living so wonderful."_

* * *

><p>Cynthia opened her eyes and saw only white mist. She felt the smooth floor beneath her and tried to push herself into a standing position. Then she noticed she was naked.<p>

Please let this be a bad dream, she thought. Let Professor McGonagall hand me a test I haven't studied for and then I can wake up.

The mist around her ebbed to reveal where she was. She saw long benches, a vaulted ceiling, tall pillars, and train tracks. This was King's Cross Station. Then again, it wasn't. It was clean and perfect white. There were no people. Which was a good thing, considering how very naked she was.

She looked up at the sign to see which platform she was on. The sign read '∞'. She looked across the tracks to the other platform. The sign there read 'BEYOND'.

The spell was _not _supposed to do this. She must have passed out from using so much magic. She had better come to fast. There was more work to do.

She noticed something down the platform. Something was coming out of the mist. She reached down for the wand she didn't have. She stretched out her hand to cast a spell wandlessly. She found to her horror that she didn't have any magic.

There were other things coming through the mist now. They were walking toward her from all directions. They became clearer. Cynthia realized they were people, walking up to her two by two.

She recognized these people. Those two were the brothers she had abducted in Rio. That was the couple she had taken from Sydney. That woman and her daughter were taken from Rome. These were all the people she had spent the past year collecting.

She must have died. The spell had been too much. Her body couldn't have survived channeling that much magic all at once. She was on the other side and _now _it was time to pay the piper. And all the pipers had clothes on.

They walked up to within arms reach of her and stopped. Cynthia kept turning to look at the crowd that was forming around her. Maybe if she kept eye contact with the growing mass, then they wouldn't move.

They didn't seem angry, though. They looked peaceful. Some of them were even smiling gently.

Then Cynthia saw something that made her stop dead. The crowd was dozens of people thick by now, but she'd recognize those faces anywhere. The people in front of her stepped aside. A parting in the crowd formed all the way to the familiar faces she'd seen.

Lily and James Potter stood hand in hand. They walked down the path made by the others toward Cynthia. Cynthia would have run away if she wasn't frozen with terror.

"Hello, Cynthia." said Lily.

Cynthia could only gulp. She had sixteen years of vengeance owed with interest.

"We need to talk." said Lily.

Oh, this was going to hurt.


	57. The Crown of Horns

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 14:**** The Crown of Horns**

"_The long night is over. The sun will come up."_

* * *

><p>The light that had blinded Marcus abated. He felt the hard ground under him as he lay supine on the ground. His whole body ached and he still felt exhausted. In his right hand, he felt the cool metal of his Keyblade still in his grasp. The ceiling above him was pure white. He turned his head to see the rest of the room was equally blank. A few feet away, Draco was lying on the ground, Keyblade in hand, unconcious. Ginny was a short distance behind him, propped up against the wall.<p>

Marcus tried to pick himself up, but each movement was like trying to turn a rusted joint. He used his Keyblade as a cane to pull himself up into a kneeling position. The whole Fifth House was here, covered in dirt and their clothes in tatters from the battle. Several of them, Marcus included were bleeding from various wounds. Their state of distress was brought into sharp relief by the pure white of the room they were in.

Against one wall, there was a throne, made of plain alabaster blocks. Cynthia sat on the throne, unconscious. She was in tatters like the rest of them, but instead of wounds it looked like her body was smoldering. Parts of her skin looked like burning ember.

He tried to walk over to her but only succeeded in falling face first onto the floor.

He heard footsteps running up to him quickly and felt strong arms picking him up. Diego was holding him bridal style and went over to where Cynthia was on the throne.

"Mother?" he heard Raleigh's tear strained voice. "Are you ok?"

Deigo knelt in front of Cynthia. Raleigh stood at her left hand and grabbed her arm. Now that he was closer, Marcus could see that her skin wasn't smouldering. They were markings. Thousands of tiny symbols were written on her skin, glowing red. It looked like writing from every alphabet on earth.

Cynthia stirred and forced her eyes open.

"Diego?" she asked weakly.

"Yes, mother?" he asked.

"Am I alive or are we all dead?" she asked.

Diego laughed, in spite of the situation. "We're alive, mother. What happened to you?"

Cynthia followed his gaze to her glowing tattoos. She held up her arm to examine it more closely.

"I bumped into some people I knew." she said cryptically.

"Pardon?" asked Diego.

They all turned when they heard a groan coming from high on the wall. Marcus saw Voldemort chained to the wall, ten feet above the floor. He was stirring awake.

"What have you done?" he snarled. "Release me, you Mudblood!"

"Or what?" snapped Cynthia. "You'll pelt me with racist epithets that I don't personally find offensive?"

Voldemort glared down at her.

Marcus looked to the other bodies in the room. Ron was pulling himself to his feet. Ginny was rolling over weakly. Harry was crawling over to Hermione's unconscious form.

"What happened?" asked Ron. "And where are we."

"I need you to step back." said Cynthia.

Diego and Raleigh took a few steps away from the throne.

Cynthia waved her hand and an image appeared floating in mid air. It looked like the floating light panels of his console's keyboard. She pushed a few of the translucent buttons and the wall opposite her turned from blank white to a picture of London. When Diego turned to see it, Marcus got a better look. It was like the wall had been replaced by a giant window. The room they were in was hovering hundreds of feet above the city. Diego walked closer and Marcus saw the buildings were still burning in the dark of the night.

Then he saw the stadium. But there was no stadium. That was definitely where the construction site was. He could see the resistance dueling with the Death Eaters in the lot below. Bolts of light shot around causing small explosions. But the structure of the stadium was just gone: The walls, the spires, everything, gone. There was a huge rut making a perfect circle around the construction site where the foundations used to be.

Harry carried Hermione closer to the window-wall.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "It's all gone."

Cynthia pressed another button. A smaller image appeared floating in midair beside them. It was another image of London, from a differnet angle. Marcus could see the flames licking the buildings, curses being shot off into the air, the lights of the city flickering in the smoke, and a huge stadium floating hundreds of feet in the air.

The stadium was suspended in mid-air. A giant crown, rotating slowly with no visible means to hold it up.

"Is that..." started Draco. "Are we inside the Crown?"

"Yes." said Cynthia. "And now..." she activated several other screens until she was surrounded by keyboards, "...we are going to use it."

~o!o~

Colin Creevey and Daphne Greengrass dueled side by side. There had been mass confusion after the explosion caused by Cynthia's spell, but they never let go of each other. The light had vanished, and they saw that the Stadium had also disappeared.

Colin didn't know what to make of it. He had put all his hope in it and it was gone now. The Death Eaters had rallied quickly, thinking that Cynthia's spell had backfired horribly, and the resistance was back on the defensive.

Colin and Daphne were trying to hold back Yaxley, but he was advancing steadily.

Daphne cried out as one of his spells sliced her hand. Her wand flew away from her.

They saw Yaxley grin and raise his wand.

Then they all heard a roaring sound, like many waters pouring in. As one, every combatant turned their faces to the sky to see what was making the noise.

Then Colin saw it: The Stadium was hovering in the air over London. A huge ball of light was forming in the center of the ring, like the spell Cynthia was casting before she vanished. It glowed brighter than the last one. The construction site was as bright as day.

Smaller balls of light started flying out of the star, like tiny comets. Hundreds of them flew down to earth. They zigzagged and spun through the air, dodging cranes and buildings that were in their way.

One of them hit Colin square in the chest. A second later, one hit Daphne. Colin felt a buring power in his body, It spread out along his arms and legs. All his fatigue was gone. He felt like he could breath fire and move mountains. Daphne felt a tickle on her hand. She looked down to see the wound Yaxley had inflicted on her seal itself up and disappear.

Then they both felt a weight on their bodies and a snug tightness. Colin looked down at himself to see he was clad in armor. Bronze and Silver plates covered his body. It wasn't the bulky armor he had always seen in mid-evil museums, this armor was the Ferrari of armor. The visor on his helmet was clear glass that illuminated the landscape, like night vision.

He looked to his right to see Daphne wearing a set of armor as well, though her's were different colors.

He felt something appear in his hand. He looked down to see in place of his wand, he was holding a giant key.

Yaxley recovered first.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he cried.

Colin didn't have time to react. The curse hit him square on the chest plate. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath to make sure he was still alive.

He swung the Keyblade out at Yaxley, and he went flying like he had been hit with a cannon ball.

Other armored wizards with Keyblades ran by them. The Death Eaters were in full retreat, the ones that weren't being hexed to oblivion.

Colin and Daphne joined the charge. Colin felt so light. He felt like he could run all around the world. He easily caught up with the nearest Death Eater and petrified him.

They both jumped over his body and chased the others. The chase let them out of the construction site and into the streets of London. Colin and Daphne were picking them off like a cheetah chasing a chihuahua.

They came to the end of Hextal Street. They looked around and found no more Death Eaters in sight.

They both broke out laughing. Colin picked up Daphne in a hug and spun her around.

There was a low humming coming from the sky. They looked up to see the light in the Crown change from white light to bright green. A beam shot down into the city from the Crown.

They saw the wave of magic coming down the street from where it hit. It came rippling out towards them like a tidal wave. The wave was made of a thousand bright colors, like a storm of flower petals was engulfing the city.

Colin and Daphne braced themselves, and the wave of light crashed over them. They didn't feel anything, it washed over like a summer breeze. They were in the cloud of petals that danced and fluttered in the air.

The fire in the building down the street went out as suddenly as a wind blowing out a candle. The ware house that had collapsed started picking itself up and reassembling itself. Cars that had been torched or flattened were bent back into shape. The chasms and crags in the street were sealed up. It was like someone had hit rewind on the universe and all the damage was being undone.

Colin decided to take full advantage of the situation. He pulled off his helmet and Daphne. Then he dipped her into a kiss.

~o!o~

Marcus watched out the window as the huge cloud of magic rippled and caressed the city below. He gasped as one of the skyscrapers got back up. He hoped, somewhere down there, a playground was healing itself.

They all watched the miracle unfold before them, lulled by the soothing sounds of Voldemort's screams of rage.

"RAAAHHAAHHAHA!" he yelled.

"What?" said Cynthia. "You want a better view? Sure."

Multiple images popped up in mid air all over the room. They were live video feeds of London from different vantage points. Marcus walked along them like he was in a fine art gallery. Then he saw one that grabbed his attention. It was an image of the Crown hovering over the city. In the bottom right corner was an icon: BBC. He turned to a different screen and looked in the corner: CNN. Another: Food Network.

Cynthia was streaming from news sites.

"Mother?" he said panicked. "Are we..._not _Invisible?"

Everyone turned from what they were watching to look at Cynthia. They had all assumed she had concealed the Crown. Her airship was invisible, her Bastion was invisible. It seemed like a foregone conclusion.

"We are visible, yes." said Cynthia. "Every muggle in the world can see us."

"But they'll know about wizards now!" said Ron.

"If I were them," said Hermione, "I'd think aliens had landed."

"We could play it off as a hoax." said Draco. "A few memory charms here and there, maybe conjure up some atmospheric interference-"

"No." said Cynthia. "There will be no more hiding in the dark for wizard kind. This is our coming out party. We will be held accountable to our fellow humans. We will bring out every hidden thing for judgement, whether it is good or evil."

"This isn't over!" screamed Voldemort, pulling vainly against his chains. "You haven't won! You got in one lucky spell-"

"There was no spell." said Cynthia. "Cervantes was always working for me. When she put Harry's blood in your resurrection potion I had her add a small contaminant."

"I had everything checked!" yelled Voldemort. "There was no magic on any-"

"It wasn't magic." said Cynthia. "It was muggle technology. A small amount of nanobots that would provide short term paralysis. But it was only good once so I had to wait until it really counted."

"You saved one city!" Voldemort carried on. "My followers are all over the world! They'll bring their army and tear this ship to shreds!"

"I'm glad you reminded me." said Cynthia, typing something into one of her keyboards.

A huge globe hologram appeared in the middle of the room. Marcus could see a small crown icon over the British Isles. He flet a small squeezing sensation and the icon moved to Berlin.

He looked out the window-wall and saw the city of London had disappeared. He ran up to the window and looked down to see a clearing in a forest. It was full of piles of metal arranged in a ring. He saw a bus-sized white capsule. There were six glass pods with whales placed around the perimeter. It was all the necessary parts for another stadium.

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"We Apparated to Germany." said Cynthia.

"How is that possible?" asked Draco. "We couldn't even bring a rusted battle ship across Scotland without mutilating it."

"I'm using better equipment." said Cynthia. She hit a button on one of her screens and they heard the thrum of the Crown powering up a spell. The site below them was suddenly electrified. The materials snapped together into more and more complex shapes and they all connected in a ring. The whales and the white capsule was absorbed into the structure and the whole thing levitated off the ground until it was level with the crown. Lights went on around the exterior as the power supply kicked in.

Marcus was reminded of the machine the Creevey brothers used to turn scrap metal into nuts and bolts. This was a machine that could turn scrap metal into other machines.

When the new ship was finished it was much smaller than the Crown, though still very intimidating. It did not have spires, it was just a simple halo. They watched it fly away slowly to the light on the horizon, where the Dark Wizards of Berlin were about to get a nasty surprise.

This whole ship was a giant wand, Marcus thought to himself. A Magic Tech machine, fully programmable, to perform any spell you want at huge magnitudes. Cynthia could harness the magic made by the whales to rebuild cities and level her enemies. And she could make other machines that could do the same.

"How many more of these are we going to build?" asked Marcus, grinning like a loon.

Cynthia pointed up to the globe hologram. Little red dots began to appear on various countries. Just a few at first: Switzerland, Spain, Macedonia... Then dozens more started to appear: Botswana, South Africa, Thailand, India, Greece, Israel... Then there were red dots all over the world: Brazil, Cuba, America... many countries had several dots. This was going to be a long night.

Cynthia typed in the next coordinates and the ship disappeared from Germany.


	58. Individual Reports

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 15:**** Individual Reports**

"_Any suitably advanced form of technology is indistinguishable from magic."_

* * *

><p>DIMONA, ISRAEL | 24:43 (22:43 GMT):<p>

Private Shamron was huddled behind an overturned Humvee, his rifle clasped against his chest like a safety blanket. Around him, he could hear the whistle of bombs and rat-a-tat of gunfire. Fighter jets sped across the sky. Shamron had no idea who's they were.

He had lost track of which country they were even fighting. He couldn't even confidently say who their allies were. Trying to tell any of them apart in this chaos was too much to ask of anyone. The battle around him now had been raging for three days. Five hours ago, he had been cut off from his unit and left to hunker down behind what cover a battered car provided. He could only said prayers to the loving God of Heaven that his country men would find him before the other side did.

Looking back over his short life, he wondered how it had come to this. Only a few months ago, he was living with his family in Tel Aviv, taking odd jobs to make ends meet. Suddenly the call went out, we were at war. Reports about what they were even fighting over were vague at best. He had no idea who attacked whom first. Whether Iraq had invaded Israel or Israel made an air strike on Iraq was a mystery to him. At this point it was all details. They were at war with all their neighbors and what allies they had were under attack. They were all alone, sinking fast, and someone had dumped a hungry shark in the pool.

Slowly, the landscape around him brightened. He could see the area around him more clearly. It was as if the Sun was rising. He looked up for the source of light. He saw it, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Yep, still there.

There was a giant ring was hanging in the air. A golden orb was seated within it, shining like the Sun. Shamron saw jets swarming around the ring like highly confused gnats. A pulse of light came out of orb. All the jets halted in midair. Shamron watched in awe as the the jets floated gently to the ground. One of them landed ten feet away from him, light as a feather. The cockpit slid open and the pilot poked his head out. He looked around, hoping things would start making sense.

A line of tanks was proceeding over a hill when their engines cut out and they all came to a grinding halt.

Shamron felt something slipping through his fingers. He looked down to see his rifle had turned into sand and was blowing away.

All across the battlefield, machines were dead and the weapons had disintegrated. Unless they wanted to wrestle each other to death, the war was over.

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BANGALORE, INDIA | 05:34 (00:04 GMT)

Dr. Ramanujan carefully prodded the leg of her patient. The young man groaned at the slightest pressure and shifted around on his cot. There was nothing for it. The leg had gone septic. Gangrene had set in. It would have to be removed.

She got up and made her way through the numerous cots to the supply office. They had set up in the fields of a temple after the city had been evacuated. On the horizon, the buildings were still burning after three days. The once peaceful garden was so thick with the sick and injured you couldn't see the ground.

They didn't have nearly enough supplies to treat all these people. She and her fellow Doctors had been working around the clock just to keep wounds from getting infected. They had no clean water or food to keep the people healthy. She was beginning to hope that a nuclear war would burn them away and end the nightmare.

The Sun was rising in the West. Soon the heat of the day would be on the exposed patients and there would be cases of heatstroke, dehydration, and...hang on.

The Sun rises in the _East_.

Against all her years of medical training, she looked directly at the source of bright light. She couldn't be seeing what she was seeing. The exhaustion had gotten to her, or she'd accidentally inhaled a cloud of heroin.

On the horizon, a giant floating halo was flying towards them. The center of the halo shined like the sun. It emitted a sound like angel song. Dr. Ramanujan felt a rumbling inside her and the aches of her body were swept away.

She heard a laugh. She looked down to see a woman had jumped off her cot and was pulling off bandages that were red with dried blood. The skin below was unbroken. Once she had pulled them off she started skipping around in the isles between the cots. There was another yelp and someone else got off their cot. The mans cast fell off and he wheeled his now unbroken arm like a windmill.

All over the temple grounds people were rising up and there were shouts of laughter and songs of joy.

Dr. Ramanujan ran this scenario through her years of medical training and reached the logical conclusion that this could _not _be happening. She found herself dashing back to her gangrenous patient. He wasn't on his cot. She saw him dancing with his friend, Latika.

Dr. Ramanujan took another look at the scene around her. Formerly suffering and dying people were running and jumping around. She looked down at the now empty cot.

She had been working for three straight days and now all her patients were well. She flopped down on the cot and passed out dead away. She could wonder at the miracle later.

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XINJIANG, CHINA | 11:27 (03:27 GMT)

Yeoh looked down on what used to be her village. There was nothing left of the beautiful, lush forest that was once the home of her people. The land they had once depended on for sustenance was now scorched earth. The midday sky was black with smoke. It had taken thousands of years for the forest to grow. An army had come through and obliterated it in less than a week.

It was only a matter of time before she and her family starved to death. She wondered how long they could subsist on charcoal.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. The black clouds in the sky above twisted and spun into a whirlwind. In the eye of the storm, Yeoh saw a giant metal ring, hovering on its own. The black clouds turned a shade of green. It was the green her people had been seeing for centuries. The color of the forest that they called home.

Rain poured down on them. The ground was soaked in mere seconds. The green clouds above evaporated and Yeoh could see the clear blue sky and the sun beat down on the soaked land.

Yeoh felt something tickling her foot bottoms. She looked down to see grass pushing it's way out of the soil. It grew so quickly, she was already ankle deep in the green stalks where she had just been standing black mud. Longer stalks shot up like fireworks and thickened to become giant trees. They kept growing all around the valley, stretching to the sky above. Bamboo shot up with other foliage. Soon, the light of day was eclipsed by green leaves and tree trunks.

One of the branches reached down to Yeoh. It stopped a foot away from her and a bud formed at the end. It ballooned out to a bright red apple. Yeoh reached out and picked it. She took a bite, relishing its sweetness.

She looked up to the giving tree to see it was full of fruit. She heard the joyful cries of her children and saw them run up to the trunk and start climbing.

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RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL | 05:15 (07:15 GMT)

Estevan led his sister through the ruins of San Salvador. There country had been ravaged by freak earthquakes. There wasn't a single building left standing in the entire city. They wound their way around fallen buildings and across chasms in what was the street. He dodged a fallen power line. They hadn't had electricity in a month, but it would come back on in time to electrocute him. A broken water pipe jutted out of a pile of slag, feebly dripping water. They both ran up to it and held out their hands.

Something passed in front of the Sun. Estevan looked up, then wondered what the Hell was in that water. There was a giant metal ring floating over the city. He barely had time to wrap his head around the strangeness of this, he was engulfed in a storm of colored light. It was like the air was full of ten thousand flower petals, each from a different blossom.

He felt the ground beneath him rise up. He grabbed onto his sister and braced himself for another earthquake. The ground moved up for a while the stopped suddenly. Walls formed around them. Shelves started to assemble themselves. A table sprang into place. A sink popped out of the wall. Curtains bloomed around a window. They were inside a kitchen of an apartment. Julian heard echoing thunks from the other rooms as they formed themselves.

Estevan's sister ran up to the sink and turned on the tap. Water flowed out freely and she drank right from the faucet. Julian ran to the window. Outside the whole city was rebuilding itself. The roads were flattening back into place and making themselves straight. Power lines snaked up their poles and reconnected with each other.

Estevan looked up to the peak of Corcovado mountain. The statue of Christ The Redeemer, that had been toppled months ago, picked itself up and stood proudly once again.

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NEW YORK, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA | 10:02 (15:02 GMT)

David Dinkins, the Mayor of New York, looked out his window at his city. Not a single car was moving. People were standing on the streets looking up in the air. There was no panic, only wonder and curiosity.

Mayor Dinkins, against the deepest wishes of his heart, looked up to the sky above. Yep, still there: a giant metal halo, floating unsupported in the air, flipping off the immutable laws of physics. Was that even _allowed_? Did they have to file a flight plan if they were going to just hang there?

Reports were coming in from all over planet Earth. Giant rings were hovering over every major city in the world. From Moscow to Sydney, to Bloemfontein, to Istanbul, to Tokyo, to Hong Kong, to Paris, and now New York.

They had been leaving a wake of order and prosperity in their wake. A huge flood in Australia had just disappeared, and all the pools were cleaned. The forest fires that had been plaguing California had vanished in a puff of smoke. They were getting stories that the armies of the world had been totally defeated with no casualties.

There were several of these Halos hovering over other US cities. New York's Halo had been the most recent one. Mayor Dinkins had been trying to communicate with his contemporaries to see what the best course of action was. The response had been uniformly: 'You fucking tell _me_'.

All he knew for sure was that whoever was in charge of those Halos A) didn't want to hurt us and B) wanted us to stop hurting each other. And Really, those were two initiatives he could get behind.

There was activity in the city. People were running along the street now, pointing up at the Halo. Mayor Dinkins looked up to see a film was forming along the bottom, like a giant sheet of cellophane had been fitted over the Halo. The film warped in color and soon turned to white light.

The light dissipated and he saw a picture of a woman smiling gently down on the city. Mayor Dinkins guessed that it was some kind of giant TV screen.

"Don't be frightened." she said. "We mean you no harm." The sound of her voice wasn't booming like some distant giant speaker system, but it sounded as if she was right next to you speaking softly.

"My name is Cynthia." she continued. "I am the designer and commander of the Halos that now cover Planet Earth. I want to assure you, no matter what I or people like me can do, we are as human as anyone.

"This world, our home, was in the middle of a terrible war. There were people who believed that they were better because of their birth. They were filled with hatred that infected the world around them. They sought to destroy the peace and prosperity the nations of the world created through compassion and trust. They used their abilities to kill and control key people in governments worldwide. They used smoke and mirrors to dupe us into killing one another with our war machines.

"Some of us knew of their plot and worked tirelessly to stop them and restore peace and hope to the world. I am happy to say we have succeeded. As of today, the war is over."

Even in his office, high above the streets, Mayor Dinkins could hear a thunderous wave of cheers. He even added to it with a few whoops of his own.

"The victory we have today is not for any one country or race." she continued. "It belongs to all people. What you see here was made by brave souls that gave everything they had. They belonged to many cultures, they had many skills. Some of them had special abilities one might call magic.

"The technology that brought this war to an end drew from the cutting edge of science and the depths of ancient magic. It was a triumph no one group of people could have achieved alone. The world that is to come, the world that is born today, will be one where everyone comes together and builds something great. We will rise up as one earth against our common enemies of reckless hatred and evil.

"Arrangements will be made with your leaders in the hours to come and we will begin the reconstruction of our world." she finished. "Until then, please remember: All we want is peace."

Her picture faded to white and the film on the bottom of the Halo vanished. You could see through it again to the blue sky above.

The phone on Mayor Dinkins's desk rang. He picked it up automatically.

"Mayor Dinkins." he said. "...yes I see...your a wizard you say...what does that entail...you can, can you?...Yes, it makes as much sense as anything else...Sure, we can set you up with an office. I'll just make room in the Military Liaisons Office. As I understand we don't need them any more...Listen, can you wave that magic wand and make gas prices go down?...brooms, you say...I like it."

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LONDON, GREAT BRITAIN | 17:43 (17:43 GMT)

Marcus watched the various news feeds that were being displayed in the throne room. People were dancing in the street. Soldiers were greeting each other jovially, regardless of country. Various world leaders were addressing their people, reiterating the good news Cynthia had just given the world. A few hours ago she had broadcast her message using all the Halos world wide. Marcus almost wished he had been on the ground to see it.

Cynthia was sitting on her throne, scrolling through a readout on one of her screens. Her tattoos were still glowing bright red and she hadn't bothered to repair her dress.

"The captains of all the other Halos are reporting full cooperation from their host governments." said Diego to his Mother, reading off his console. "The Death Eaters are being rounded up and interred at temporary facilities. The consensus is that the world is back in functioning order, but many of the previous governments are defunct or collapsed during the war and a interim system is being assembled by the resident cells. They're working in as many muggle officials as are willing to help, but they're still going to have issues with-"

"Hold that thought." she said. She flicked her hand and a new screen popped up. It displayed Arthur Weasley, clad in armor from the neck down.

"Chairwoman!" he said, startled. "How did you-"

"I'll explain more later." she said. "And it's not Chairwoman, anymore. I'm the Admiral of the Fleet. And in my capacity of world leader I am appointing you Minister for Magic of Great Britain."

Arthur's mouth hung open. "I...I don't know what to say."

"Say 'thank you'." said Ron.

"Thank you." said Arthur, still stunned.

"Your welcome." said Cynthia. "Now get to work. New world orders don't build themselves." she swiped at the screen and the picture changed to an armored Dumbledore sitting on top of a mound of unconscious Death Eaters.

"How are things, Albus." said Cynthia jokingly.

"Peachy Keene." said Dumbledore. "If I'd known armor was this slimming I would have started years ago."

"You've still got half your life in front of you." said Cynthia. "I am appointing you Headmaster of Hogwarts and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Do I have to have the second one?" asked Dumbledore, in mock annoyance.

"Yes," said Cynthia, "but you can change the job title to Viceroy."

"Will do." he said, and the screen disappeared.

"Right," said Cynthia standing up. "Everyone fall in!"

Marcus stood in a line with the rest of The Fifth House, Diego, and Raleigh, like soldiers for inspection. Cynthia stood before them.

"I owe you all so much." she said tearfully. "You're all so young and you gave up everything for the cause. The planet owes you the prosperity it will enjoy for decades."

Marcus felt a smile come, unbidden, to his face. He might make a habit of smiling, come to think of it.

"Diego," she said, turning to her eldest. "I have an important assignment for you."

"Yes, mother." he said, standing up straighter.

"You are to take them," she gestured at the rest of the line, "to the beach house in the Greater Andaman Islands."

"Yes." he said.

"Make sure they're comfortable." she said.

"Yes?" he said, becoming uncertain.

"Take the week off." she said.

"But," he stepped forward, "We have to process all the war criminals. The economy will have to be reformatted after the currency collapse. Someone needs to coordinate food delivery to the different-"

"I'll find someone to do that." she said dismissively.

"But I should-"

"You dare defy your Admiral?" she said. "Listen, I left you alone for months to run a Bastion by your lonesome. No one can say you didn't pull your weight. You look like you gave up sleeping and eating to do your job."

She stepped forward and put a hand under his chin. "Go and rest. They'll be plenty to do when you get back. I won't build a new world without you."

He relaxed and let himself slouch a little.

"Now," she said, turning to the others, "the Exile is docked against the Crowns lower port. It's down that hall and...Where are Draco and Ginny?"

Marcus turned to look down the line, then around the throne room. Draco and Ginny were no where to be seen.

"The war is over isn't it?" asked Harry. "Dark wizards are defeated, we can live in peace, and all that?"

"Yes." answered Cynthia, not seeing where this was going.

"They went to find a tomato plant." said Marcus.

Except for a confused Cynthia, and Voldemort, who was still chained to the wall, the all fell on the floor laughing.


	59. Coming Clean

**Book 5: Marcus Montefiore and The Crown of Horns**

**Chapter 16:**** Coming Clean  
><strong>

"_You can't break an Unbreakable Vow."_

* * *

><p>Cynthia had a screen open that looked at a massive meeting hall. It was packed to the seams with people. A cursory glance showed that all races were represented in the group. The audio was a dull hubbub of various languages. They were passing binders between them, occasionally making notes in the margins of what they were reading.<p>

Cynthia turned to the huge globe hologram that still dominated the center of the room. She ran her fingers across the surface and the Earth spun at he touch.

"Why don't you just kill me?" asked Voldemort from his place on the wall.

"So your Horcrux can bring you back worse than ever?" she asked.

The part of Voldemort's face that, on normal people, held eyebrows shot up in shock.

"It may interest you to know that your snake was just neutralized." she said. "That makes a total of six Horcrux of yours that have been rendered inoperable. If I kill you now, you'll just be dead."

Voldemort looked genuinely horrified. It was worth constructing the Crown of Horns just to see him that scared.

"So, why haven't you killed me?" he asked.

"Allow me to answer your question in the form of monologuing." she said.

Let's see, she thought to herself, as she spun the globe. If I was Thomas Potter and my arch-nemesis had a fleet of Death Stars orbiting the planet, where would I hide. Milwaukee.

She tapped the city of Milwaukee on the globe and a cracking sound echoed through the throne room. Thomas Potter and Sirius Black fell heavily on the floor.

She turned back to the screen displaying the meeting hall.

"What do you think?" she asked them.

They didn't answer. Their long quest to find out what she was up to was about to end with her using her air-born whatinhell to kill them.

"When World War III started I had them all brought to a protected bunker in Geneva." she continued. "They're the experts in their field from around the world. Pharmacologists, Engineers, Law Enforcement, Human Rights, Ecologists, Environmentalists, Doctors, Merchants, Economists, and hundreds of other Disciplines. The greatest intellectuals and humanitarians the human race has to offer."

"What are you going to do with them?" asked Thomas Potter.

"They've already done it." said Cynthia. "They spent their time in hiding designing a new system of law for this day. They used their collective understanding of the world and its people to develop a functioning government."

"Are there any politicians in there?" asked Sirius.

"Oh, _Hell _no." said Cynthia. "In the days to come the system they designed will be implemented world wide. There will be no issues with extradition or international boundaries. Human rights will be uniform in every continent. What's illegal in one zone will be illegal in all the others."

"And who is at the head of this new Government?" asked Thomas Potter, knowing full well what the answer was.

"I am." said Cynthia. "With absolute decisive power. The world will be safe from democracy."

"And if there are heretofore autonomous governments that _don't_ want to accept your reign of terror?" asked Thomas.

"I just saved the world." said Cynthia, settling down on her throne. "I think you'll find I have a 100% approval rating. Well, except for..." she pointed her thumb to where Voldemort was chained to the wall. Thomas and Sirius, who hadn't noticed him before, jumped to the opposite wall.

"Don't worry." she said. "He can't hurt anyone."

"Why do you still have him here?" asked Sirius.

"I know he doesn't really work yet." said Cynthia. "But once I bring in a few potted plants and a coffee table, I think he'll really tie the room together."

"Some people won't be fooled, by this." said Thomas, determined to take one last stand in true Gryffindor form. "People will never fall for the Benevolent Dictator act. If we ever get out of here we'll tell people what you did. And if we don't there will be others to take our place."

"And what did I do?" asked Cynthia.

"You've kidnapped hundreds of people and set up the deaths of Lily and James Potter!" yelled Sirius.

"And?" asked Cynthia.

"Um..." said Sirius. "Isn't that enough?"

"Well, yes." said Cynthia. "Those are indeed punishable crimes, but it's no where near the full extent of what was going on."

"The real story starts many years ago," said Cynthia, "when you were still a loyal employee, Thomas, you came to me with your crowning discovery: the Belfast Apparatus. The source of all magic lay before us. That's when I first drafted the plans for this ship. However, digital technology was in its infancy and microbiology was prenatal. I didn't have the means to graft the Belfast into the blue whales or manipulate their free flowing magic."

"Even if I did, the magic they'd produce, while still cataclysmic, wouldn't be enough for my purposes. So, the idea was filed away with free energy and world peace.

"Then my focus shifted to trying to defeat Voldemort. I admit, I thought of Lily and James as an acceptable sacrifice if it meant that the war would be over that night. When I heard that Voldemort was after Lily and James, I knew that nothing would stop him from getting to them eventually. I decided to turn the situation to my advantage: use Lily and James as bait for a trap. So, I bribed Peter Pettigrew to sell them out to Voldemort and I switched out their baby."

"You did what now?" asked Voldemort.

"It wasn't necessary for Harry to die." said Cynthia. "So I made a very convincing doll and I loaded it with enough explosives to make a crater the size of an Olympic swimming pool. I put enchantments on it to ignite when the doll was hit by a curse. I had Peter tell me where he was, put the doll in Harry's place, obliviated Lily and James so they didn't know I was there, and went back to my office to wait for the news of what happened."

"That can't be true!" said Thomas. "Harry was found at the bottom of the crater! Did you just put him back when you were done?"

"That's where things get weird." said Cynthia. "As far as I can figure out, here's what happened: Lily and James didn't know that their 'son' was a doll so they gave their lives to protect him. That kind of sacrifice left it's own kind of magic behind. Just because their son wasn't real didn't make their love any less real. Voldemort shot a killing curse at the child and several things happened very quickly and close together. The sacrifice Lily and James made rebounded the curse back at Voldemort. Then the explosives in the doll went off, making a huge smoking hole in the ground. A piece of Voldemort's maimed soul broke off and was left floating around. In that one crater, at high temperatures was the residual combustion charms from the doll, a fragment of soul, and the sacrificial love. It was a magical clusterfuck. The Love and the piece of soul latched on to the closest thing they could find: a fragment of the doll.

"When the dust settled, there was a real boy in the bottom of the crater."

"That's impossible." said Sirius, with no certainty in his voice. "That is_ not_ where babies come from."

"Makes as much sense as anything else." said Cynthia. "I confirmed it at the cellular level. Harry is as human as anybody else. I didn't tell anyone about the switch. At the very least, it was a good way to mislead anyone else who wanted the real Harry dead. And I was curious to see what would happen. The doll grew up like a normal boy. He even had magic. I didn't see any of the sociopathic tendencies one would expect with a piece of Voldemort's soul. The love must have healed him somehow."

"Hang on..." said Sirius. "If Harry isn't Harry then where's Harry?"

"Ah, yes." said Cynthia. "Thomas said he didn't want him," Sirius turned to look shocked at Thomas, "so I found an adoptive family where he could be safe. For the past fourteen years he's been living as the Son of Alan and June Darling in Hawaii. He thinks his name is Tyler. He has a girlfriend named Mikayla. He plays as Seeker for a community quidditch team."

Thomas, Sirius, and Voldemort just stood, or hung, their with their mouths gaping open.

"His first year of Hogwarts, I decided to perform one final experiment." Cynthia continued. "At the end of the year, the castle was destroyed and I had learned two very important things. The first was that Dumbledore, that transcentennial hippie, was bloody right. Love is the most powerful force in the universe. It can multiply a persons magic to transfinite levels. That's what kept the killing curse from obliterating the doll and it incapacitated Quirrell when he tried to kill Harry."

"This also proved that love could be ingrained onto an extra-human artifact." said Cynthia. "If the whales were capable of love, then I'd have enough magic to make the Earth tremble. I scoured the libraries of the world to find a spell that could ingrain a human soul onto a different body. I found recipes for Golems, Horcruxes, and lutefisk, but they maimed a soul and rendered it useless for my purposes."

"Eventually, the answer just dropped in my lab. One fine day, Harry picked up one of Voldemort's Horcruxes and his soul just flitted right in and amalgamated with Harry's. It didn't make Harry more like Voldemort, you understand, it just made Voldemort more vulnerable and Harry stronger. I studied the process by scanning everything for several hours, and finally I was able to transfer a soul from A to B with no degradation."

"The Whales have human souls?" murmured Thomas. "That list of names...?"

"Correct." said Cynthia, snapping her fingers. The hologram of the globe changed to a scale model of the Crown of Horns. The spires were cut away so they could see the whales within. The images of the whales morphed into different people.

"Jennifer Chung and her daughter Samantha." said Cynthia. The image of an older woman and a young girl on opposite sides of the crown were highlighted. "The Storge pair, containers of the love between a mother and her child."

"Zack and Cody Martin." she said. The images of two blond haired twins in opposite spires were highlighted. "The Philia pair, keepers of the love between brothers."

"Edward Masen and Isabella Swan." the final two opposing people where highlighted, a bronze haired boy and a thin young woman. "The Agape pair, romantic love, the stuff legends are made of."

"This layout is the same for all the smaller Halos. By putting them on opposite sides I stretch the connection across the center where they can all intersect and form a magical nexus, which brings the total number of magical nodes to seven, which we know is important because arithmancy-"

"You monster!" shouted Thomas. "You weaponized the power of Love!"

"Cool." said Voldemort.

"Now you aren't accountable to anyone." said Thomas. "There's no one and nothing that can keep you in check. You'll rule with an iron fist, abuse your power, oppress the people, and you'll be just as bad as he is." Thomas said, pointing at Voldemort.

"That was what I planned." said Cynthia. "But it all went wrong."

"Pardon?" said Thomas.

"I expected the whales to be docile." said Cynthia. "When we made them they didn't have high functioning brains. They were supposed to sit in their pods, eat food, and produce magic. I underestimated their power. Once I put souls in them, they were able to use their power. They knew everything. They could see far beyond the walls of their tanks. They could hear a butterflies wing beat on the other side of the world. They were conscious on a higher plane of existence. They knew what I was up to, and they took action."

"After I cast the final spell to activate the Crown of Horns I was taken off the planet." she said, fingering the tattoos on her arm. "I was somewhere else, between this world and what comes next. And they were all there, waiting for me."

"What did they do?" asked Thomas.

"This!" said Cynthia, stretching out her arms. The glowing red tattoos all over her body flared. "The Unbreakable Vow has nothing on this! This is a binding contract written into my very being by the most powerful magical creatures in the world."

"The whales don't have to stay on the ships. There's not a thing I can do to keep them here if they want to leave. However, they said they would stay if I agreed to certain...stipulations."

"I would have just set you on fire." said Thomas bitterly.

"They don't think like we do." said Cynthia reflectively. "They retain their humanity but they are not victims of the human condition. They have left behind bitterness and hatred. They wanted to make things better. They agreed to lend me their power and help me build a new world, but I had to bind myself to them with hundreds of Unbreakable Vows."

"Like what?" asked Thomas.

"Well, starting with this one." she pointed to the sentence ingrained on her left forearm. "'I will not kill'. Then you have these over here that protect human rights. My right ankle guarantees a fair trial. This elbow forbids slavery. My shoulder blade prohibits using government money for personal gains..."

"Let me get this straight." said Sirius. "The whales that you planned to use as engines have you under a contractual obligation to be an _actual _benevolent dictator?"

"On pain of death." appended Cynthia. "If I make a single infraction of any of the clauses they'll be nothing left of me but an uninteresting scorch mark on the ground. They'll see to that. They are a part of me now, as I am a part of them."

"So, why tell us this?" asked Thomas.

"Because I met your son while I was over there." said Cynthia. "He told me to come clean to you and I was in no position to disagree."

"You saw him?" said Sirius, excited. "How is he?"

"Dead." shrugged Cynthia. "You are both free to go." she waved them off. "I'll send word to Minister Weasley that Sirius Black has been pardoned. You can tell whoever you like about what you know. My kneecaps insure freedom of the press. I do ask that you withhold the bit about Harry being a real life Pinocchio. Being a teenager is hard enough when you're born in the typical fashion."

"We won't." said Sirius. "Can we see the real Harry?"

"Certainly." said Cynthia. "I can send you there directly."

"What are you going to do with him?" Thomas asked, pointing at Voldemort.

"Tom Marvolo 'Voldemort' Riddle," said Cynthia, getting up off her throne, "will be brought before a tribunal of senior judges and a jury of his human peers in front of the International Criminal Court in The Hague. He will be held accountable for his crimes against humanity."

She walked over to stand directly in front of Voldemort.

"Every one of his victims and their families will be allowed to testify in open court. If the line is a mile long I will extend the trial as long as it takes so everyone has their say and everyone gets justice. I will personally foot the bill for an entire team of the best lawyers in the world to defend him. When the verdict is returned, no one will be able to say he was treated unfairly."

"He will serve out his sentence in a clean, well maintained, comfortable prison, where he will be treated humanely. He will watch through the gaps in the prison bars as wizards and muggles work together to build a better world."

"And _no one_ is going to be afraid to say his name."

* * *

><p>End Book 5<p> 


	60. UNKNOWN

**Book 6: ?**

**Chapter 1:**** ?**

"_Let me share this whole new world with you."_

* * *

><p>In the year 2016, there was an explosion.<p>

Professor Marcus Montefiore waved his wand and the layer of soot came off the windows of his classroom. Light shone down on his students cowering behind their desks.

"And that is why you never divide by zero." he said. His third year Magic Tech class brushed the ashes off their uniforms and began packing up their supplies.

"Normally, I'd assign you homework," he said, "but I have plans tonight, so enjoy your weekend."

His students gave various shouts of adulation before running out of the classroom. Marcus packed a few things away in his satchel before hanging it over his shoulders and walking out of his classroom. He made his way through the halls of bustling students, who were thrilled that another school day was over.

He had somewhere to be, but decided to take the scenic route. He came out of the building onto one of the school's rooftop gardens. He passed through a few of the flower beds and was nearly knocked over by two brawling students. One red head and one blond.

"Scorpius, Dennis, break it up." said Marcus.

The two boys separated, covered in dirt and grass stains.

"Why am I always prying you two apart?" he asked, hands on his hips.

"He's a Slytherin." shrugged Scorpius Malfoy. "I'm a Gryffindor. We _have _to fight."

"His mother is a Slytherin and his father is a Gryffindor." said Marcus. "_They _don't have to fight."

"We just do if for fun." grinned Dennis Creevey.

"This is the London School of Magic." said Marcus. "There's no fun allowed here."

"C'mon Uncle Marc." said Scorpius.

"That's Professor while were on campus." said Marcus. "And we all have somewhere to be in a few hours. Now, go to your houses and get ready. Your parents will be coming for you."

"You mean you can't take us?" asked Dennis.

"No sweetie." said Marcus. "I have to meet up with her."

They ran off inside. Marcus walked over to the railing and stared down at the campus of London School of Magic. The school occupied several city blocks, with buildings that towered over the streets below. There were sky walks going between different buildings. Occasionally, someone would open a window, fly out on a broomstick and into a different classroom. On the main administration building, Marcus could see the five shields that represented the five houses. Red and gold with a lion for Gryffindor. Yellow and black with a badger for Hufflepuff. Blue and bronze with an eagle for Ravenclaw. Black and white with a polar bear for '5'.

Since the magic users came out of hiding, the muggles and wizards had been mixing very regularly and found that they liked one another. A much larger school had to be built to accommodate the effusion of magical children being born. The London School of Magic wasn't even the largest magical school in the world. The Pacific Magic Academy took up a whole island and boasted the worlds largest magizoology environment.

The London School of Magic offered far more than the compulsory seven years of training of Hogwarts. There were different environments for all the different disciplines of magic. They had course on everything from brewing firewhiskey to thermodynamics. People of all ages came to add to their skill sets long after they first graduated.

The school also had a number of non-magical students. Classes like Magic Tech and Potions didn't actually require magical ability.

Marcus left the garden and went down a few more floors to the train station. The London Monorail system came right into the campus, at the fifth floor of the building. Marcus stopped at the turn style and pulled four jade coins out of his pocket which he dropped into the coin slot. He stepped through onto the platform.

After World War III, every system of currency had collapsed. A new system was implemented world wide. They had suggested paper money, but the goblins wouldn't have it. There were five coins that were most common. The small gold piece, the Yen, was the smallest denomination. The Rupee, a slightly bigger green coin, was worth ten Yen. The Krona, a square silver coin was worth ten Rupee. The Mark, a larger square black coin, was worth ten Krona. Ten Mark was worth a large square bronze coin called the Drachma. There were other denominations that went all the way up to 100,000,000 (Talent), but that one was the size of a dining table.

It had been an adjustment for everyone, but it was a damn sight easier than remembering that four farthings was a ha'penny, twenty four ha'pennies to a shilling, three shilling to a bob, three bob was a half crown and seven crowns was a guinea. Additionally, switching to heavy metal coinage had the unintended side effect of making bank robberies impractical, unless they came equipped with a team of elephants to haul the booty.

The monorail came gliding silently into the station. The doors hissed open and Marcus dashed in. The monorail shot away on the track suspended forty feet above the streets. Marcus looked through the train windows and saw the people walking down the streets or riding their bikes on their daily commute. Automobiles weren't a thing anymore. Public transportation was nearly instantaneous, and many people had a friend that could just Apparate them into the office.

Marcus could easily Apparate to the Terminal, but he loved making the trip through the city. After everything he had gone through, he loved seeing that it was still there. These days it was better than ever. There were hundreds of new sky scrapers that gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Monorails looped all over the city. People strolled down the clean streets at a leisurely pace. It was amazing how much you could invest in social infrastructure when you didn't have to worry about upkeep on an army. There were no opposing countries to worry about anymore, not with the one-world government in power, and not with the Halos in the sky above.

The Skyscrapers vanished from view and Marcus saw only green through the windows. The monorail was passing through Hyde forest. Even at this height, the trees towered above them. Every city in the world was interspersed with forests, half of the city was green with trees, with more growing past the outskirts. Twelve years ago, Neville Longbottom succeeded in making a tree that could convert sunlight into electricity. By attaching the roots to the city power grid, the city had all the energy it needed. When Cynthia heard of this, she dropped what she was doing, found Neville, and hugged him. If you're going to run a dictatorship, it should at least be a _green_ dictatorship, after all.

The forest ended and Marcus saw a huge flat expanse, like a giant parking lot. It was covered in dozens of airships like the Silvana. There were lines of people walking up the ramps to the airships from the main building to which the monorail was pulling up. The Airships now facilitated international travel. They offered way more leg room than an airplane and you didn't have to be bothered with fastening your seat belt. The fact that an airship could accelerate past the speed of sound and cut your trip to Australia down to ten minutes was happy coincidence.

The monorail glided to a stop and Marcus disembarked. He walked to the Special Services desk of the Terminal and the attendant scanned his ID card. Her eyes bulged out of her sockets when his information came up on her screen.

"This way, _sir_" she said, escorting him to a high security corridor.

"Saluting isn't necessary." he said, smirking. He did enjoy the pull he had, being a Montefiore. He could cut in any line he wanted. He didn't do it, but he could if he wanted to.

"Can't be to careful." she said. "It's a small world and your mother rules all of it."

They went up a flight of stairs and came out on the roof of the Terminal, where a smaller white shuttle was waiting.

Thomas stepped inside, and the doors snapped closed behind him. The little ship went from standing still to over 1,000 kilometers per second. Marcus didn't even feel the acceleration. He saw through one of the windows, the Crown of Horns growing in the distance. It had been hovering over Britain for the past twenty years without ceasing. Since the night it had instantiated all the other Halos, nothing had happened that was so serious it had to leave the country. There had been that incident in 2012 where the world had almost ended, but they sorted that out in time for Christmas break.

A panel in the side of the ship opened and the shuttle slid inside. The shuttle door opened and Marcus stepped out into a white hallway. There were several people already there that greeted him with a nod and stepped into the waiting shuttle to go back to Terra Firma.

Marcus went down the white hallway until he found the door to Cynthia's private quarters. He raised his hand to knock, but before he could-

"Come in." said Cynthia. "It's open." How he wished he could scare his students like that.

He went inside. Cynthia's quarters were her typical spartan style. A few chairs, a desk, a picture, a huge window that looks onto the world below, and the whole room was covered in clothes. Cynthia held up two dresses, on in each hand. One was black, the other white.

"Which one?" she asked. "I can't wear white because it's a wedding, and I can't wear black because it will look like I'm in mourning."

Marcus looked around the clothing strewn floor.

"Do you have any other colors?" he asked.

"I never buy colors." she said, frustrated. "And Voldemort just told me the pleats on this one make my head look small." she said, giving the black dress a shake.

Voldemort had been imprisoned on the Crown of Horns since the Hague had handed him a life sentence. Cynthia often consulted him on matters since he was the only person in the world who had nothing to loose by offending her. His criticism was a good barometer of how functional her ideas would be. In the case of high fashion, Marcus trusted him as much as anyone else.

Marcus waved his wand and the white dress turned blue.

"Oh," said Cynthia, "right. I forgot I could do that." she went to her bathroom to get the dress on. She had been living up here permanently since the Crown of Horns first went air born. If she wanted to see someone, they came up here. But today was special.

"I can't believe Raleigh did this." said Cynthia from the bathroom. "Announcing he was getting married three days before the wedding."

"I can't blame him." said Marcus. "Not after what happened when Harry and Hermione got married."

"So I planned their wedding." said Cynthia. "I'm his mother. Is that so wrong?"

"You used the Crown to conjure a cathedral out of diamonds." said Marcus.

"I gave them back when I was done." said Cynthia.

"And what about when Draco and Ginny were married?" asked Marcus. "You and Molly were tied for the 'Who's the Craziest Mother?' award."

"It's my week to have that trophy and she still hasn't sent it!" complained Cynthia, walking back into the main room.

"How do I look?" she asked, spinning around. The blue ball gown hugged her form and left her arms and shoulders bare, revealing Cynthia's forever glowing tattoos.

"It's pretty fancy." said Marcus. "Didn't Raleigh say it was a casual service?"

"Yes," she said, "and when asked, you're going to say I just threw this on."

~o!o~

An hour later, Marcus and his mother popped onto a beach on the Greater Andaman Islands. There was already a large crowd of people there. They were gathered in clumps and talking amongst themselves. The ceremony clearly hadn't started yet.

Marcus vanished his shoes and shortened his trousers as a wave crashed in. He wiggled his toes in the sand. A few people noticed them and came over to say hello. Marcus shook hands with Dumbledore, Kingsley, and Arthur Weasley. The position of Minister of Magic was now defunct since muggles and wizards were now under the same government. Arthur Weasley was named the Administrator for the British Zone following the reformation.

Remus and Tonks came with their son Teddy. The Twins were there with their twins, two each. Colin and Daphne were there with their two children Dennis and Astoria. Dennis was chasing Scorpius through the waves.

"If they both drown, then they'll at least be quiet during the ceremony." said Draco. Marcus hugged him and Ginny hello.

"How are things going in Canaveral?" asked Marcus.

For the past year, Draco had been working on a team that was building an interstellar shuttle. It was supposed to be able to make a round trip to the Alpha Centauri A system in under a month.

"The life support system is working, as well as the artificial gravity. We just need to perfect the navigation and controls." said Draco.

"Do you think you might find any aliens?" asked Marcus.

"Well," started Draco, "the gas giant Polyphemus has a moon called Pandora that has Earthlike attributes so we might-"

"Marcus!" he heard Hermione call. She ran up and hugged him, cutting Draco's explanation mercifully short. Harry was there with her and pulled Marcus into a hug next.

"How are things with the troll uprising?" Marcus asked Harry.

"We managed to stall them." said Harry. "We posted up a sign that said 'Do Not Read'. It had them confused for hours." Harry worked for a division of law enforcement called S.W.A.T. (Special Wands and Talismans). They handled the most dangerous assignments. Hermione worked for a division called I.L.P. (Intelligence, Logistics, and Payback). I.L.P. was the only division that reported directly to Cynthia. It was their job to investigate the zone administrators and department heads. They let Cynthia know if anyone was abusing their authority or being generally ineffective.

The new world wasn't perfect. Some people were still nasty. Some laws weren't fair. But no one could deny that things _worked_. There was no famine. There weren't any wars. There was no more pollution. The post was delivered on time, _without _junk mail. Toast landed butter side up.

"Hey, Marcus!" called Ron coming over. Ron lived in Japan with his wife Tohru, a chiropodist. He worked with the Japanese S.W.A.T. Division. Thanks to the Airships, his mother was able to visit frequently and deplore how thin her grandchildren were.

After saying hello to Ron, he went to look for his older brother. Diego was standing apart from the crowd, looking out over the ocean. He turned and smiled when he heard Marcus approaching. They hugged hello, Diego nearly crushing him with enthusiasm.

"My son's getting married!" he said excitedly.

"I know!" said Marcus with matching excitement. "It seems like it was just yesterday he was out here trying to save the starfish."

"He was doing that this morning, too." said Diego. "I think he's nervous. I don't know why. I'm plenty nervous for both of us."

They heard the doors of the beach house open. The crowd started to move toward the porch. Things must be getting started.

"You realize," said Diego as they walked to the house, "mother's going to start asking why you aren't married yet?"

"Don't worry." said Marcus. "I have a plan to avoid her."

"What?" asked Diego.

"Draco sold me a seat on his space ship." said Marcus.

* * *

><p>End Book 6<p>

* * *

><p>The End<p> 


End file.
